Striker
by Fire Redhead
Summary: A baby Predator is inadvertently left on Earth and is found by a platoon of soldiers. When he's raised in a government facility the true nature of a Predator warrior is revealed!
1. The Young Hunter

Striker

By Fire Redhead

_"I want to be a hunter like my sire Swift as Fate!"_ the child Predator demanded harshly feinting his ornate dagger at some imaginary foe.

His bearer clicked sharply behind her ornate mask, _"You cannot my offspring. You are still a very Young Blood; barely six rotations old! What makes you think you are ready to hunt when you are not even blooded yet?"_

The male child swung and spun his dagger in fancy patterns, punctuating his strong words, _"I want to be a hunter! I cannot wait! I **will not** wait!"_

His bearer strode over effortlessly seizing his wrist with a harsh hiss, _"**Enough!** Your talk is foolish! You are far too young and of little experience and intelligence to take on such a thing. Do you forget that only the blooded warriors are permitted to hunt? Even if you survive to adulthood you will have to endure many trials and much training to even become half the warrior your sire is!"_

He lowered his large head, almost too big for his little body, and let his stubby mandibles slide to the side in what could be interpreted as a pout.

Seeing his submission, the female toyed with her offspring's dreadlocks; a sign of comforting or affection, _"One day my son you will be a great warrior. You must be patient and not let your eagerness blind you. Remember our laws and live by them. Respect your ancestors. Remember your warrior honor and courage and never let it go."_ she rattled with a passion. The young male nodded in acknowledgement. His mother was strong and wise.

_"Now...practice your dagger skills"_

After his strenuous knife practice the unnamed male child retreated from his dwelling. (Until they reached the Age Of Passage, child Predators were unnamed until they earned their warrior titles through battle and honor.) When the twin suns of the planet were nearly parallel, the blooded warriors would spar with one another on the Battle Terrain, displaying and fine tuning their prowess as fighters. Whenever he had the chance the male child would sneak off to watch such battles so he could learn by observation how to be a great warrior. In his short life all he'd wanted to do was become a hunter and be just like the clashing titans of the Battle Terrain. In particular he wanted to be like his sire Swift as Fate.

Swift was the clan leader and earned that position by being the fiercest and most skilled warrior of all. None alive could match his quickness or agility with blades and those who tried were slain as quickly as a challenge of his authority could be made. He was the young male's idol; everything he aspired to be. The only thing standing in his way was the passage of time to attain his status as a warrior hunter. But he could not wait! He wanted to be a hunter _now_! Already he had beaten all the young males his age in sparring and even defeated much older opponents! Didn't that merit some recognition? He _could_ hunt, he just knew it!

Ever since birth he'd been trained and conditioned in the ways of combat. In fact, seconds after leaving his bearer's womb his Sire, who witnessed the births of his offspring ritually, placed a dagger in his tiny hand. It was said if the young gripped the knife handle, then they would grow to be powerful and lethal warriors. He had gripped the knife handle very strongly and from that moment on, weapon wielding became as natural as breath. Every day all young Predators were required to train in the art of fighting hand to hand and with weapons. They were also educated in the ways of their clan and taught of the prey they would one day hunt. The epitome of every Predator's life was their First Hunt and they all had to be ready for it or death would find them quickly.

Finding a position above the Battle Terrain on the roof of a dwelling the unnamed male child felt the bellowing fight chant of the warriors who were calling for blood from the two combatants rush through his chest. Their unearthly roaring stirred the child's warrior soul and enflamed his inborn lust for combat. Swift as Fate and a younger male of about equal size were squaring off in the center of the chanting crowd of onlookers. They had no weapons; only their raw power and skill were to be utilized. Obviously from his posturing the young male was cocky and challenging of Swift's position. In order to keep his role as leader Swift would have to combat any upstart who thought himself male enough to seize his title. He'd taken many a scar from such combats but he'd never lost. Standing at a mammoth 8'2 and build of solid muscle the leader was indeed a force to be reckoned with and any challenger would have to be damn certain he could defeat him. His challenger was of equal size but not as broad and of younger years, but aggressive as Hell as most Young Bloods were.

Swift turned his body slightly showing the younger combatant his back which was the human equivalent to spitting in someone's face. When a Predator turned his back on an opponent he was saying, "You're not worth my attention or you are not worthy of my skill." That did it. Shrieking in a bellowing snarl of rage the Young Blood leaped at his leader in a power kicking attack! Anticipating this, Swift ducked to the ground just as the fighter flew over him instead of hitting him! In the same motion the leader seized the Young Blood's extended legs, meant for kicking him in the back, and jerked them back hard causing the combatant to fall forward on his face in the dirt!

A massive roar of approval exploded from the crowd after the stunning combat move. Rolling quickly the Young Blood got back on his feet in a low crouch, spreading his lower mandibles ferociously. NO ONE made him look foolish like that! Swift showed him his back again but this time the younger Predator was not so quick to attack. Eyeing his leader's position he came in slower and with more thought of his movements. Swift could somehow sense his caution and faced him directly bulling into his opponent! Instinctually the fighters clasped hands in a wrestling struggle of raw muscle power! Another chant blew up from the crowd that egged them on. Seeing his strength was less than his leader's the Young Blood slumped down a bit before driving a solid knee into Swift's rock hard stomach! The leader grunted and made a fist, connecting a blow with the upstart's right lower mandible! Responding instantly the young Predator spun around, executing a fancy series of combat kicks that appeared very advanced and powerful. Swift blocked some of them by crossing his wrists and twisting his body out of the furious path of bone crunching kicks but most of the kicks connected. Just when the young blood appeared to have the upper hand Swift as Fate showed exactly how he'd earned his name. With a blindening move of his body, the leader slid beneath the kicks and came up with an iron fist beneath the young one's jaws! Head whipping back from the awesome blow the younger Predator tried to catch his balance but Swift was upon him instantly, bashing the upstart's head with steely fists of raw power! Green sprays of thick blood spewed from the Young Blood's mandibles under his leader's relentless blows until Swift spun, connecting a clawed foot with the side of his head. The young blood fell to the ground and let forth a blood curdling shriek as his leader's knee drove into the middle of his back! Crumpling at last the younger Predator could take no more. To punctuate his victory, Swift seized the challenger's dreadlocks and used them to haul him off the ground before throwing him above his head in an awesome display of strength!

Swift spread his mandibles in a fierce bellow of triumph as he held the Young Blood over his head, _"Know this ALL OF YOU! Any who challenge me shall be BROKEN by MY HAND!"_

A frenzied roar of approval shook the air of the Battle Terrain as Swift carelessly tossed his opponent to the ground and strode dominantly through the parting warriors. The unnamed male child 'roared' his admiration from his position on the dwelling roof. He was honored to be of Swift's offspring and one day HE would be as great a warrior as he!

Suddenly the activity was interrupted by the blaring of a klaxon across the Battle Terrain. All warriors' heads turned in unison at the sound. It only meant one thing: a Hunt was brewing. Immediately Swift As Fate withdrew his ornate sword and held it over his head bellowing orders and sayings over the crowd. Immediately the unnamed male child leaped down from his perch and began making his way through the crowd by weaving in and out of the warriors' thick legs. He just _had_ to see his Sire up close when he was dealing out orders! None of the full grown hunters paid the child any mind other than a quick glance downward when he brushed against their calves. After a bit of maneuvering he was only a few feet from Swift As Fate.

He listened with interest, _"…we travel to the planet of the Flatheads! A Flathead Hunt has not been issued for a great many seasons. If any of you **Skr-ok'nact** think you're worth your father's seed to partake in this killing, step your sorry ass forward!"_

A shift in the crowd and many warriors of young and experienced Blood stepped forward, cutting their chests with their ceremonial daggers to display their acceptance. The little male couldn't stand it! Lifting his head high and puffing out his little chest he marched out of the crowd, stood next to the line of warriors, withdrew his own dagger, and cut his chest. It hurt…but he refused to show pain.

Upon seeing the tiny child cut himself like the others, the crowd of Predators began to click and rumble their amusement. Swift As Fate eyed the male child with humor. Striding forward the leader towered over the young one who barely came up to the top of his calves.

The Predator child's yellow eyes averted up at his leader but then quickly returned his gaze forward and his dagger poised across his chest. Swift As Fate rumbled with laughter, slowly circling the child.

"_And just what the **Cho't** is this?" _he growled.

"_I accept your challenge sire. I will hunt the Flatheads!" _the male stated boldly, raising his shoulders and puffing his chest even more so to display his aggressive determination.

The Hunters laughed uproariously which made him mad. Swift As Fate raised a spiky brow and then rumbled, _"Barely the size of my rod and he wishes to hunt Flatheads!"_ That drew further laughter from the warriors. Swift clicked in admiration, _"Definitely one of mine! Already has the lust for blood! Not this time little one. Wait about ten seasons and you'll be ready. Now go on back to your dwelling. Hunts are meant for **grown** warriors."_

Humiliated and ego totally crushed to dust, the young male sheathed his dagger and stomped out of the crowd. His larger child eyes were not soft but flaming with barely contained rage that made his blood boil. Behind him the corrosive laughter of the warriors echoed in his head. Rejected! Rejected by his own sire! _Why_ must he wait? He could hunt _now_! What did age matter? What did size matter?

Upon reaching his dwelling the little Predator shrieked and slammed his dagger into ground before him. His anger was SO great he wanted to KILL something! Then…an idea struck him; an idea of crazy proportions and very little consideration. But in his current state of mind…it didn't matter. Not at all. Even if it meant his death…he _would_ hunt.


	2. Stowaway

**Striker: Stowaway**

_A few days later on the planet Earth…….._

The Predator ship, cloaked into invisibility, landed amongst the jungle terrain, crushing rock and tree beneath its metal shell. After a moment the invisible ship opened its landing ramp and several burly warriors, decked out in full armament, strode out of the ship and into the jungle. Each activated their camouflage and as shimmering wraiths they disappeared into the thick jungle beyond to begin the long awaited hunt. Hissing and groaning the ramp began to close to fully conceal the ship. But just before the mighty door could shut a little figure slid down the ramp and landed on the ground below. Then with a quick scrambling move the figure took off into the foliage opposite the path of the warriors. Silence.

……………………………………

_Not so far away nearly 3 hours later………….._

"Dammit Mike! If you're gonna bet, then bet!" Sergeant Rick cursed munching on a thick cigar.

The platoon commander Mike stared at his cards stroking his black mustache, "Don't get your panties in a wad Sergeant. What's your rush anyway?"

Drawing deeply on the cigar the black Sergeant said, "My rush? Hell, I'm in a rush to leave this god forsaken post and get back to the States."

A tall, built Private named Hayes grinned, leaning back against his makeshift chair, "Amen to that Sarge. I haven't been laid in over two months…" his eyes averted to the field surgeon, Corporal Karin. "…think you could help me with that Kar?"

The red headed woman smiled coyly, "Sorry Hayes. Your fist will have to do you for the next few months."

Hayes and the other soldiers laughed, "Ouch! Damn! I thought the humidity was the only thing cruel in this place."

"Alright Rick. I'll see your three and raise you…seven." Mike stated with a confident smile.

The cigar stood erect between Rick's lips, "Why you…shit! I fold." Jake smiled triumphantly, laying down a simple pair of fives. Rick cursed some more.

Private Hayes snickered. Sergeant Rick might be hardnosed but he could never figure out if the commander was bluffing. Stretching, he stood in the canvas tent, "'Scuse me ladies…call of nature."

…………………………….

He'd run through the thick vegetation for hours searching for Flatheads. The male child had never seen a live Flathead in his life, only their skulls. From a young age he was taught about them and he knew Flatheads walked on two legs, they were highly intelligent but weak physically, and they were armed with all kinds of projectile-type weapons that by his kind's standards were primitive…but effective. Armed with a pair of daggers, a child-sized spear, and his own set of wrist blades the young male felt nothing but confidence. He wished he had some of the bigger and better weapons like throwing disks or shoulder cannon. However, young Predators didn't get those until much later in life. The child even had his own mask, but it wasn't technologically advanced like a true hunting mask. It was merely for show.

But he didn't care in the slightest. His overconfidence blotted out his obvious short-comings and disadvantages. He still couldn't believe how he'd managed to sneak aboard the hunting vessel and hide in an air duct for the trip undetected by anyone. The best part? He was finally hunting and no one knew! Though he knew he had to be careful for if he was caught, the punishment…unimaginable. Still his youthful ignorance and brash ego kept the difficulties out of sight and mind. Such as: How was he to get back on the ship? When would the ship leave? How was he going to explain the Flathead skulls he'd bring back? He didn't think about such things. All he had on the brain was: Hunt…Hunt…HUNT! As he made his way blindly through the trees and brush he heard sounds; sounds he'd never heard before. They were low and distorted…alien. Could those be Flatheads? He drew closer to the sounds, pulling a dagger from its sheath.

……………………….

Hayes trudged through the bushes away from the platoon's camp site. For months they'd been stationed out in the Brazilian jungle to fight a rebel uprising. He'd seen some action, but for a solid week they'd been ordered to hold their position and await further orders. None had come and now boredom and bugs was their enemy as they waited for word. The native-born Texan hated waiting around. But more than anything he hated being away from home for so long.

Finally he found a spot to relieve himself. Splaying his legs he unzipped and proceeded to relieve himself. As he urinated he heard a twig snap near him. Cautious, he finished his business and listened closely. Nothing. Then he saw the brush next to him stir. Backing up slightly he drew his sidearm and held it at the ready. He licked his lips nervously and edged toward the bushes, using the muzzle of the pistol to part the foliage. He saw nothing. Perhaps it had been a snake or something?

Suddenly something bit his left calf! Crying out in pain he reeled back half expecting to see a snake bite but…it was…a cut! Like, a knife cut. In his urgency to back away Hayes tripped over a raised tree root and fell hard onto his back. Involuntarily he pulled the trigger and fired the gun once. The gunshot drew shouts from his platoon of seven.

Hayes cursed, trying to sit up when suddenly a miniature figure leaped out of the bushes with a pair of deadly daggers in its hands! Gritting his teeth with a cuss, Hayes reacted quickly. Seizing the assailant's little cuffed wrists before the knives could impale his throat. Too shocked to believe what he was seeing, Hayes stared at the attacker. It was little; only the size of a child; roughly 3 ½ feet tall; but it was stronger than any child. The figure bore a metal mask with glassy eyes and swooping curves encircling the broad rounded forehead plate. Adorned in a kind of leather and metal set of shoulder pads, ankle cuffs, wrist gauntlets, and a mesh body suit complete with a loin cloth, the tiny aggressor looked like some kind of pint-sized gladiator.

Holding the shining daggers at bay, Hayes felt a foot plant itself into his chest, trying to put extra force into the blades as he pushed them closer to the man's neck. At the same time Hayes was attempting to point his pistol at the assassin, but couldn't get it to aim with the thing's one wrist in his hand as well. The little hands of the being were scaly and clawed. Not human but five fingered. A growl, much like a smaller dog would make issued from behind the mask as the attacker strained to stab him.

Finally gathering his wits, Hayes summoned his strength and easily threw the small monster off of him. The armored midget rolled but got up at the same time as the burly Texan. Hayes noted the little guy wasn't even half his size. He looked like a toddler in a costume! Raising his pistol halfway Hayes tried to aim at the creature but found its child-like size hindering. It didn't even seem like a fair fight.

However the mini assassin didn't seem stalled by the pistol or the size difference as he brandished his daggers with a hiss. Hayes noted the hair…dreadlocks…but not hair. The feet were clawed and irregular. Not human! What was it?

At that moment the rest of Hayes's platoon came crashing through the bushes and in no time they had the short-sized assailant surrounded. Noticing his predicament the mask turned from side to side rapidly holding his daggers defensively now. A threatening snarl of a hiss warned them…though it sounded rather comical.

"Hayes! You alright?" Commander Mike asked leveling his M-16 at the being.

The Private showed him the deep gash across his calf, "The little bastard cut me! Then he tried to stick those knives in my gullet!"

"Hell. Looks like a kid," a dark skinned soldier named Shayne noted easing his rifle.

"Well he ain't! Look at him! He looks like a lizard, reptile…thing." Rick growled spitting his cigar stub to the ground.

"Who gives a damn _what_ he is! That little son of a bitch tried to kill me!" Hayes shouted making the surrounded creature turn quickly to face him. It continued to growl and hiss though his jerky movements conveyed his fear.

Mike watched the creature spin nervously, trying to defend itself on all sides with a pair of fancy bladed daggers. Other than the attire and weapons the little guy didn't seem threatening at all. Maybe its child-like size and appearance gave it that.

"Ease up troops. He's not going anywhere…don't need to panic him anymore than he already is."

Just as the soldiers lowered their weapons, the creature shrieked at Rick, charging with raised daggers! Reacting instinctually the black Sergeant swung his rifle butt and bashed the creature's arm. The blow was hard…perhaps too hard. Upon impact the child-sized being released the dagger in the afflicted limb and fell with a high-pitched shriek at Rick's feet. The terrible shriek died down and transformed into a plaintive mewling that clicked and undulated oddly, like a weird puppy's whimpering.

Karin lowered her gun and immediately felt pity for the poor creature holding its hurt arm. Her glare of ice struck her officer but she said nothing.

Mike said it for her, "Aww _Hell_ Rick! Did ya have to hit 'im that hard?"

Rick sighed, "I didn't mean to hit him _that_ hard. But he was going to stab me!"

Motioning to Karin, Mike ordered her to look at the creature's arm.

Handing her rifle to Shayne, the only woman in the platoon edged closer to the injured Predator child. It cradled its arm chirping peculiarly. At once its mask turned up at her and boldly it leveled the other dagger at her.

"It's ok…easy little guy…easy." Karin cooed putting her hands palms up in a non-threatening gesture.

He didn't understand her and kept pointing the vicious dagger at her. Kneeling a few feet from him, Karin made a motion to her own arm and then to his, "It's ok. I'm here to help you. Don't be scared. Put that down…I'll help your arm."

Still the blade made no sign of lowering. Karin sighed. He didn't understand her…or he didn't trust her. Probably both. She set her jaw stubbornly and decided to take a more direct approach. Perhaps he responded better to aggression so she used a gruffer tone.

She narrowed her blue eyes saying threateningly, "Alright. Put the knife down! Put…it…down…NOW!" Karin pointed at the knife and then to the ground to punctuate her words.

Much to her astonishment the dagger lowered and the masked face lowered in a cowed sort of posture.

Karin nodded, "Good. Good." Very slowly she edged closer and he attempted to raise the blade again, but Karin raised a hand and pointed to the ground, "NO! Put it down!" He did so more quickly.

"Hey, she did it." Private Shayne stated in admiration.

"Not yet. Still need to see his arm." Karin pointed out. She was now close enough to touch him, but also close enough for him to stab her. Holding out her hand she gestured to the knife, "Give me the knife."

He seemed to understand her gesture but instead he sheathed the weapon and clasped it into its holster. Obviously he was unwilling to give it up.

Karin shrugged, "Well…I guess it's a start." She made a gesture to her arm and then to his, "Let me see. Let…me…see your arm."

Slowly he began to understand and very cautiously turned so his injured appendage was facing her. Very gently Karin touched his arm and found it to be warm, soft, and lightly textured. He tensed but her gentility reassured him. His little arm was solid with muscle, but kind of chubby like most children were. Karin felt the bone and the creature growled, pained by her probing.

"Probably has a hair-line fracture in the humerous but a sling can fix that."

Mike nodded, "Alright…see if you can get him to the Medic Tent and rig him one."


	3. A Name

**Striker: A Name**

_His arm hurt. The big Flathead hit him with some kind of weapon and now his arm hurt. The female Flathead was much like his bearer. Her alien sounding voice nearly matched tone at times and made him more ready to obey. He still didn't want to trust these…Flatheads. They were prey! But…they were bigger than him and they severely outnumbered him. On top of his physical injury, his ego was yet again crushed. He thought he could take on Flatheads but he'd failed at that dismally. Now he was injured by them and had no choice but to let them do whatever they pleased._

…………………………………

Karin finished the sling and the young creature kept a wary eye on her from behind his mask.

"There you go. Now just hold still and don't use that arm and you'll be fine."

The mask cocked at her and then turned toward the tent door where the other soldiers stood. He gave Rick a baleful stare and snarled nastily.

Rick straightened his stance, "Don't think he likes me."

"No shit Sherlock." Mike muttered shaking his head and striding into the tent to get a better view of their patient. Passively he knelt down in front of the child sized being, resting his M-16 across his knee. The alien watched him intently.

"Well, I'm anxious to see what we've got here." he commented.

"You want him to take the mask off?" Karin asked.

He nodded, "I'm curious yeah."

Since he seemed to trust Karin the most, the medic made a gesture that asked him to remove the mask. Tentatively he reached up to the clasp of the mask with his unafflicted right hand as if unsure.

Karin nodded, "Yes. That's right."

With a quick motion the little creature undid the clasp. Since it bore no technology the pressure hoses were not present. Very cautiously he lowered the mask down away from his face. A uniform gasp escaped the soldiers as well as whispers and curses. Quickly the Predator child put the mask back as if he were scared.

Karin admitted the brief glance was…rather…ugly, but she felt bad for him so gently she said, "It's alright little guy. It's alright."

"Geez! That glance was enough for me." Shayne commented under his breath.

"Maybe…he's scared of _our_ appearances." Karin guessed.

After a moment the little mask lowered again to give the humans a longer look. The slightly large, yellow, predatory eyes darted around nervously and the four tiny clawed mouth mandibles twitched independently. His head was huge, lightly jagged with premature spikes around the crown of his rounded skull, and speckled with bands of green color like the ones on his body. He didn't have a nose or visible ears. Whatever he was…it was FAR from human.

"Shit…can see WHY he wears that mask." Rick grunted.

……………………….

_The words meant nothing to the little alien. He couldn't read Flathead expressions anyway so their repulsed looks didn't affect him. They were rather creepy looking creatures with their tiny foreheads, shorter statures (at least compared to an adult Predator), their weird face nostrils, blunt toothed mouths, hairy bodies and heads (well the female wasn't so hairy bodied), and their mushy, pattern-less flesh. How could they stand to look at each other?_

………………………

After a moment the little Predator's largish eyes focused on the men nearby and slit harshly. In a second the creature's lower mandibles flared outward in an aggressive 'roar'; which because of his immaturity sounded like a weak growling shriek. In any case, the sudden expression made the soldiers bristle and jump slightly. Slowly the stubby facial appendages returned to their original passive position and an undulated, pulsing chirping vibrated hollowly in the alien's chest, making the smaller upper mandibles twitch quickly.

Mike's jaw dropped slightly, "I'll be damned! That little bastard is _laughing_ at us!"

No one could believe it but the odd sound resembled a laugh. The predatory eyes turned from the men and found Karin. She couldn't deny that he looked pretty ugly, but something about his smallish, child-like stature made the hideousness seem to dim. His eyes, unlike most of his features, were his most 'human' part despite their yellow color and big cat-like quality. They seemed wide and soft…curious. He blinked…almost cutely…and made a tiny clicking rattle that sounded like a cat purr but much sharper.

"Well…you're not much to look at whatever you are. What should we call you?" Karin asked.

Hayes waved his hands slightly, "Oh no. You are _NOT_ going to name that thing! You name it and you get attached to it…even if it has been beaten with a hundred ugly sticks!"

The commander sighed, "Hayes might be right Kar. You _know_ we're going to have to report this to our superiors."

Karin got a look of dread in her eyes, "Sir!"

"Don't say it Lieutenant! We have a duty to perform and our personal feelings are secondary at best. Do you understand?" Mike barked sharply, assuming a more militaristic tone.

"Yes Sir," the field surgeon consenting standing at attention.

Mike turned to his communication officer, a stocky, Hispanic man the men called Gringo; though his real name was Juan. "Get on the horn to command and inform them or our…situation."

Saluting smartly the man turned on his heal and left. The commander looked at the doctor, "Watch him. Private Hayes, you will take first watch with her. The rest of you ready yourselves in case we have to pitch camp. Now move!" Immediately the soldiers scattered to perform their duties.

Karin sighed deeply. She hated to think what might happen to her patient once their superiors got wind of it. Quite frankly she didn't want to think about it. Looking down at her patient she watched him put his mask back on and then look up at her with the glassy eyes.

"Well I don't care. You need a name. At least…for now."

Hayes rolled his eyes outside the medic tent, "Good grief Kar, he ain't a pet." He snickered, "Why don't you call him Leatherface…or Chucky? Jason…Freddy Kruger! Hey I like Kruger! He's got the mug for it."

Karin snorted and rolled her eyes, "That's just mean Hayes."

"Well he sure as Hell ain't no Fluffy or E.T.!" the man retorted.

The surgeon laughed lightly and thought; trying to come of with a name for their patient. "He needs a strong, short name. How about…Striker. I kinda like that."

"I still think Kruger is perfect for him!" Hayes commented.

Karin rolled her eyes and knelt next to the little alien. He was touching the sling supporting his hurt arm as if trying to figure out its function.

Pointing to herself the medic said very slowly, "Kar-in. Kar…in. Karin."

The mask cocked at her curiously and the surgeon kept repeating her name until a raspy imitation came out, _"Khh…ar…Khhar…rin,"_ the little creature rasped.

The redhead gasped and Hayes turned, "Did…did he just say 'Karin'?"

"_Khhar-in" _he repeated again. His voice, though not very pleasant, was understandable.

Excited the medic nodded, "Yes! I'm Karin." Then she pointed at him and said, "Stri…ker. St-ri-ker. Striker."

"_Sss…tri…kur."_ he hissed.

"Yes! You're Striker." Karin praised.

"Sstri-kur." When he uttered the name it came out in a very harsh and sinister sounding hiss. Clearly, he was intelligent and could pick things up rather quickly. The masked face turned toward Hayes who was staring in disbelief from his position in the tent entrance.

Karin pointed to the man, "Hayes… Hayes."

Striker inhaled deeply to say the name, "Hhh-aa-ysss."

"Holy…he just said my name!" the Private stammered.

Striker's gaze roamed around as he repeated the names again in his rasping voice that sounded more like hissing and growling rather than regular speech. Karin beamed because of his astuteness.

"Well Striker…" he looked at her and she couldn't help but smile at his quickness, "Are you hungry?"

He didn't understand the words but Karin was already searching the tent for something.

"I'll bet you a hundred bucks he's not a vegetarian." Hayes stated.

Karin nodded in agreement, "No bet here."

Suddenly, both Marines heard the tell-tale sound of blades unsheathing. Karin whirled fast because she thought Striker might be trying to kill someone again…perhaps even her! Hayes aimed his Uzi at the creature fast but stopped. For the first time the pair realized Striker's right wrist band was indeed a sheath for a dual set of jagged blades that could eject with a precise closing of his little fist! But the deadly wrist blades were not aimed at them. Instead they had a rather sizable lizard stabbed to the ground. The unfortunate reptile must've slinked underneath the tent walls…at the wrong time.

Striker rattled and lifted the dead lizard up, examining his kill with interest. Then he clenched his fist and the blades retracted out of his kill and back into the gauntlet. The dead animal fell in his lap and using his one good arm he took it by the tail and splayed it out, belly up on the cot next to him. Carefully, he traced the edge of his mask and took it off to expose his alien face again.

The two humans watched quietly as the little alien drew a curved edged dagger hidden in a sheath at his ankle. Exactly how many weapons Striker had on him they'd never know, but he seemed to have quite a collection hidden about his person. Using his clawed foot to hold his kill in place the alien leaned over and slit the blade cleanly up the reptile's scaled belly. After achieving this, he skillfully worked the blade next to the rib cage and sliced off a hunk of flesh. Voraciously he clamped his mandibles into the meat and worked it back to his inner jaws. He swallowed it quickly and rattled in a pleased sort of manner.

Hayes held his stomach, "Oh man…that's just…"

Flexing his mouth parts the young hunter sliced off another piece and ate it too. After cutting a third strip of flesh he looked up at Karin and offered the bloody chunk to her. It took a lot of effort for the medic not to gross out completely.

She waved the offering away politely, "No thanks…you go ahead."

Striker seemed to be understanding the word "no" and withdrew the flesh eating it himself.

Karin shrugged at Hayes, "Well…at least we know one thing he likes: raw lizards."

In a few short minutes the lizard was nothing more than a mangled skeleton and a pile of uneaten innards. Striker purred lightly like a cat. He seemed content with a full stomach. Clicking he reached over and snapped the lizard's head off. He examined it a minute and laid it down, using one foot to hold it still while his good hand wielded the dagger again. Fluidly he cut the remaining flesh and tissue away from the skull and threw the waste to the ground. Karin and Hayes watched with fascination at how cleanly he cut the flesh away.

………………………………….

_Striker cleaned the skull of the creature he'd just killed. Ever since the day of his birth he'd learned how to wield a dagger in various ways. He was also trained extensively in the ways of hunting and cleaning prey. Of course he'd never killed anything big or substantially significant, just small creatures on the planet. One day when he was grown he'd be expected to take on monstrous kinds of prey…Flatheads included; although Flatheads were typically hunted for leisure or as a first kind of hunt for Young Bloods._

_He glanced up from his work at the two Oomans watching him. What were they watching him for? Hadn't they ever seen someone clean a kill before? Such confusing creatures…and yet somewhat familiar. The female Karin resembled his mother in manner and tone. She seemed strong and she was a healer. Something about her made him feel slightly more secure. He glanced at the male he'd tried to kill earlier: Hayes. Striker decided he wasn't so bad but he held a little animosity for his defeat. Being humiliated was not something he enjoyed or tolerated…though he'd received plenty of it. Perhaps his sire was right: hunts were meant for grown warriors. He couldn't even take on his people's physically weakest prey! What kind of hunter was he? Absently he traced the tip of his dagger over the skull's eye socket he was working on. What kind of hunter…?_


	4. Curiosity

**Striker: Curiosity**

Karin looked at the alien child who by this time had finished his work on the skull and tucked his dagger away using his good arm. She knelt down next to him and he looked at her abruptly pulling back slightly at her presence. Inquisitively he cocked his head at her, blinking his yellow eyes. Karin didn't move she just stared back at him. After a moment the alien held up a little clawed hand and reached very slowly for Karin's face. She held still and watched as he extended one of his irregular clawed fingers and lightly touched her nose. Quickly he withdrew his hand as if he expected her to bite him or something.

She just smiled at his curiosity saying gently, "It's alright."

He eyed her suspiciously but again raised his hand, more boldly this time and touched the sides of her mouth. His large eyes squinted as if he were confused and looked on either side of her face as if searching for something. At once the woman understood that he was looking for her mouth parts…like his. He poked her cheeks and clicked funnily. Karin patiently let him touch her face and then he found her hair which he patted unsure. His left lower mandible flicked outward quickly in a surprised way. The texture of her hair must've been strange to him.

Seeming to still be puzzled by the hair Striker continued his curious endeavor, taking Karin's wrist and holding her hand up to examine it as well. To Karin his hand felt like the side of a fancy skin purse but warm and alive. Striker placed his hand over hers noticing the size difference and yet the overall similarity of the two extremities; _no claws, delicate fingers, and very smooth pattern-less flesh. _

His largish head turned and his eyes squinted funnily at her chest. Karin knew what he was looking at. Striker's head cocked fast from side to side in jerky curiosity as he reached for the woman's breast beneath her uniform. Gently Karin caught his hand to stop THAT exploration. Of course he didn't mean anything by such an act…he was just a curious toddler interested in everything; she just didn't want to give him the idea that touching a human woman's breasts were allowed without her consent.

At that moment Commander Mike entered with a sour look on his face and Striker's hand shot away from Karin, "Well this is frickin' great! Our damn radio signal is jammed to Hell!"

Hayes raised a brow and shifted his rifle slightly, "What's jamming it?"

"Juan doesn't have the faintest idea. It was working perfectly yesterday and today…nothing but static snow. It just doesn't make sense."

Karin's gaze averted to Striker and then a thought struck her, "Do you think Striker's presence…"

"_Striker_? Oh Karin! You didn't name him!" Mike asked exasperated.

The redhead shrugged, "He needed some kind of identification."

Commander Mike sighed, "Alright…what were you saying?"

"Well Striker is an alien…right?" He nodded lightly. "How'd he get here then? Don't you think he has a ship somewhere?"

Hayes's eyes widened slightly, "A ship? You mean…he might not be alone?"

The medic nodded, "Yeah. Maybe he's got a ship nearby or something. That would definitely explain the radio snow."

Hayes thought a moment and grimaced, "I sure hope that doesn't mean we've got a baby alien here and his momma is out looking for him…or _worse _maybe we've got an invasion on our hands…!"

The Commander averted his eyes, retreating into his own mind to formulate a plan. "We will wait the night and see if we can get a signal. If we still don't have one by morning then we will do a sweep of the area. Maybe we can find out what's actually causing the problems or maybe pick up a signal elsewhere." With that he turned on heel and left to tell the other soldiers.

………………………

_These Flatheads were rather fascinating. This was much better than listening to one of the elders ramble on about Oomans and their behaviors and attributes. Much of the teachings seemed to be correct: Flatheads were curious, paranoid, intelligent, jumpy, easily frightened, and aggressive. But they were also surprisingly merciful/caring creatures…at least the females seemed to be if Karin was any indication. Striker avidly wondered why they hadn't beaten him or tortured him...well except for that ONE big Flathead who hit him. (He would pay dearly for that.) The Elder had told them of Ooman's brutal tendencies. Oomans killed each other without honor or even a good reason…kind of like Bad Bloods; they killed just for the sake of insane blood lust. They treated members of their own species worse than animals and females and young ones were not excluded from such treatment. Truly, Striker was never sure why Predators hunted such dishonorable weaklings. Hive Drones (Aliens) sounded like a FAR more worthy prey and they were. Why did his Sire and the other young bloods want to hunt these beings?_

_Hours passed and day melted into night across the jungle. Striker remained awake and ever paranoid. He wasn't about to fall asleep amongst these Flatheads. They might seem peaceful now, but they were prey and not to be trusted…at least that's what he could remember from his teachings. He might be able to trust the female Karin. Females were different and not to be hunted anyway but all the others were males and there was no telling what they were plotting to do with him. No. No Flathead was going to catch him off guard! He'd stay awake forever if he had to! _

_Crossing his thick little arms stubbornly he glared at the guard Hayes to show him his determination. The man snorted and yawned himself. After a few minutes Striker spotted another Flathead coming. It was the big one that broke his arm. His_ _eyes slit hatefully. Now he WOULDN'T fall asleep…not with HIM around! _

Rick nodded to relieve Hayes from his duty as guard for the night. "Take a break Private."

The Texan yawned again saluting, "Yes sir."

Taking a seat in the chair next to the tent door, the burly black sergeant rested his M-16 across his lap and stole a glance inside the tent at the alien. Striker flashed his eyes briefly at the man, spreading his mandibles and growling menacingly…at least as menacing as he could.

Rick almost laughed at the tiny growl, "Don't ya look at me like that ya ugly little bastard!"

Karin, who was on her cot writing a letter to her parents back home, looked up, "With all due respect sir, if _you_ hit _me_ with a gun and broke my arm I'd hate you a little too."

"I wouldn't have done it if the bloodthirsty midget hadn't tried to kill me!" he retorted indignantly.

The woman stretched and folded the letter, "Well, I'm going to go to the 'Mess Tent'. You want anything?"

Rick shook his head, "Nah…just had something before I came."

She shrugged and got up walking out of the Medical Tent across the way to their makeshift "Mess Tent" where they kept the food supplies. Truthfully it was more of a piece of canvas with food supplies and a large canister of water underneath it.

Suddenly Rick grunted and shouted, "HEY! WHY YOU LITTLE…!"

Karin turned and before she could react Striker raced up to her with Rick stumbling to get off the crate he'd been sitting on. The little alien ran quickly and was next to Karin's leg before Rick could catch him. Stifling a laugh Karin watched her Sergeant's befuddled expression as he stopped just short of the medic. Striker faced the man directly, spreading his mandibles and shrieking 'fiercely'.

"I don't know how…but he snuck past me!" he stated pointing at him.

Stealing a glance down at the child-sized creature with a sling, Karin smiled when he looked up at her with those wide eyes, "I guess he wants to go with me."

Rick shouldered his gun, "Alright. You sure you can handle him?"

The redhead nodded, "Sure." Friendly-like she patted the side of her leg, "Come on Striker."

Giving Rick a last challenging stare, Striker toddled after Karin like a puppy following its master.

At the sight the Sergeant barked a quick laugh and sat back down on the crate. That was the damndest thing he'd ever seen.

Upon reaching the "Mess Tent" Karin picked up a tin cup and filled it with a little water from the canister. She took a casual sip and pulled a banana, fresh from the jungle, out of their supply. Peeling back the skin of the fruit, the medic noticed Striker watching her, ever inquisitive about all she did. Thoughtfully she broke a piece off of the fruit and handed it to him. He quickly snatched it away and examined it, lightly touching his mandibles to the foreign food. In an instant he decided the banana didn't suit his palate and threw it away.

Karin smiled, her mouth full of banana, "Not much of a fruit eater are ya?"

He made a clicking sound at her and inspected the "Mess Tent", peeking in sacks and observing every little thing. Finishing her banana Karin went to throw it away when suddenly Striker made a harsh noise. The redhead turned and saw the little alien, no longer looking through the "Mess Tent" but staring into the pitch blackness of the night. His stubby lower mandibles were flaring in his aggressive expression and he was hissing like a snake.

"What's the matter Striker?"

_Striker could see a Flathead; a male hidden on the outskirts of the camp. His heat signature blazed like a fire in the night. Darkness didn't hinder his vision at all, if anything it made it much easier to see for him. Immediately Striker knew that the hidden Flathead was not part of this particular group of Oomans. His careful movements and silence conveyed that he was trying to be stealthy…like a hunter. But his stealth was rather poor compared to the stealth he, himself could achieve. Striker's acute hearing could even pick up the careful breathing of the man as well as his racing heart beat. It seemed that when he focused strongly enough on a potential prey item he could hear everything inside them…almost as if he were becoming his prey. It was an exhilarating sensation! His bearer always said he had a special talent for finding prey and he prided himself with that._

Karin started to get nervous as the young Predator continued to stare out into the jungle, growling and hissing. There was something out there and he saw it. But what could it be? Very slowly Striker reached around with his good arm and pulled a rod from the back of his belt. He squeezed it and with a flash of steel a twin set of barbed tips periscoped from the ends to form a child-sized spear! Karin was about to say something when the alien child dashed forward and thrust the spear into the brush with all his little might! At first Karin thought he might be after lizards or something like that again. But the pained yelp of a man in sounded within the dark instead.

"OH MY GOD!" Karin shouted.

At that moment a shadowy form staggered out of the bushes, the spear jabbed solidly into his upper thigh! Striker backed off slightly from the much larger man, like a cave man giving the mammoth he just speared a wide berth. The man cursed in a different language, clenching at his wounded leg. Karin yelled loudly and could here the rest of the platoon come running to her aid. Even in the dim light Karin could see a pistol in the man's hand, but he seemed too in pain from the spear stuck in his femur to aim it at anyone. Still, taking no chances, Karin ran forward and kicked the gun forcefully from the spy's hand sending it flying into the dark.

He groaned as she shoved him to the ground and shouted, "Don't MOVE! Get your hands up! NOW!" The medic wasn't presently armed but she put the man in a firm military/wrestling hold that he couldn't break. As the woman momentarily held the man down she heard Striker growling viciously next to her. Her eyes averted to him and she saw the 'light' in the little Predator's eyes. He seemed…to be enjoying this! Bobbing his head back and forth like a spectator watching a boxing match, Striker watched Karin subdue the man he wounded. He really WAS enjoying…the violence!


	5. Breaking Camp and Alone

**Striker: Breaking Camp**

In no time nearly the whole platoon set upon the spy and hauled him up shouting orders. Karin relinquished her hold on him and stood nearby. The captured spy didn't fight back though she was sure he would if Striker's spear wasn't rammed into his bone. Staring down at the little alien Karin noted his attention was completely riveted to the action. Nothing could break his interest. His upper mandibles were flicking rapidly and Karin could swear a smile was being formed on his alien face; like a kid watching cartoons!

Karin gasped suddenly when Striker whipped out a dagger from his belt and tried to charge toward the subdued spy! Quickly Karin leaped forward, bending over and caught him by his banded wrist, halting the dagger and him in one grip. He snarled/shrieked in protest and tried to wrench her hand off of him. There was violence and he wanted to participate!

More firmly Karin pried the dagger from his little hand which he didn't favor at ALL! He hissed and shrieked ferociously saying something in his alien language. Jumping and clawing he tried to reclaim his confiscated weapon even though he only had one functioning hand.

………………………..

"_**Give me that! That's mine!"** Striker demanded in his language._

_NO ONE steals a hunter's weapon and gets away with it! Try as he might to regain possession of his dagger, the Ooman female's height advantage and strength kept it out of his reach…beside that he had only one good arm. For an instant he wanted to kill her!_

_Forcefully, but not violently she seized his cuffed wrist in one hand and held the seized dagger in the other saying "NO Striker!"_

_He at least knew what she was saying. Her firm hold and equally stern tone halted his fight much like his mother's would when he misbehaved._

_He looked at her and lowered his bottom mandibles, pout-like but stopped. Striker hated being told what to do…especially by those not of his species. But he had great respect for the female Karin; she could fight AND heal. Those were two admirable qualities, qualities possessed by his mother. How could such a different being be SO akin to his kind? Striker eased up and Karin released him, but he kept watching the males deal with the spy he'd found. He swelled his chest with pride because he'd been the finder and he actually wounded this one. Oh, how he wanted to FINISH it! Feeling his weapon enter his prospective prey invigorated him to no end!_

…………………………

Later near dawn….

Commander Mike strode into the medic tent to inform Karin of the situation. They'd interrogated the spy for the last few hours and discovered some very important information. He ducked under the tent door and opened his mouth to speak but stopped. Karin was asleep on her cot and much to Mike's surprise Striker was asleep too…except he only appeared as a mass beneath the blanket Karin had given him to keep warm last night. The Commander felt the corners of his lips tilt upward. Funny thing was he couldn't see the alien but the twitching beneath the blanket indicated that he was indeed under there.

Kneeling down he shook Karin awake and she stretched, cracking open one eye, "Huh? Oh! What is Commander?"

"We're breaking camp Kar. We need to be loaded and ready to march by sunrise."

"Really? What's happened? Did you get a hold of our superiors?" Karin asked.

He shook his head sighing, "No. Damn signal is STILL jammed. We interrogated the spy last night and we've cut him a 'deal': he shows us where his buddies are and we don't kill him." He gave the medic a wink. They wouldn't do such a thing…but the spy didn't know that.

"Sounds like Rick's work," she commented.

"He's very persuasive. He also had this guy convinced that we would hold him down and let Striker eat him piece by piece if he didn't cooperate. That really loosened his tongue." Mike explained with a wolfish grin.

Karin rolled her eyes, "You guys are just horrible." Her eyes landed on the bulge beneath the blanket that was Striker. She smiled, "Well at least he FINALLY fell asleep. I thought he'd never close his eyes. Probably all the excitement got him stirred up."

"Or…he doesn't trust us." Mike offered. "I wouldn't blame the little fella…You know…I guess we kinda owe our lives to him. If he hadn't seen and…speared…that spy then we could've all been ambushed during the night. He's certainly a fearless bastard."

Karin nodded, "Yeah. I guess we do don't we? I'm still puzzled as to how he DID see that guy. It was pitch-black outside and he acted like he could see him clear as day!"

The Commander shrugged, "Maybe he just sees really well in the dark? Or maybe he sees things differently than we do?"

"Probably. Hey…wait…what ARE we going to do with him? You're not actually suggesting we take him with us…into a possible combat situation?" Karin asked with almost motherly concern.

He shrugged, "Honestly Kar, I don't see any other way around it. You just watch him and make sure he stays quiet. The last thing we need is for him to give away our position or worse…call on any friends he might have around here if any."

"Yes Sir," she saluted as her commander left.

Karin threw off her blanket and bent herself backward to get the kinks out of her back. In a couple steps she was beside Striker's cot and with a gentle hand she shook the body beneath the blanket. At her touch the bulge lashed out with a startled shriek. Karin drew back a bit but laughed at the little 'ghost' thrashing around on the cot. He seemed to be having a problem getting the blanket off. Dog-like growls and chirps of angered frustration came from beneath the blanket as Striker 'fought' the evil blanket trapping him. The redhead had to put a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing aloud but jumped when a nasty pair of blades sliced through the side of the blanket and ripped it nearly in half! Hissing Striker stumbled out of the cloth prison and fell right off the cot into Karin's lap. He clicked and lifted his yellow eyes up to Karin when he noticed where he'd fallen.

"Well good morning to you too Striker," the medic said with a hint of a laugh in her voice.

That's when the medic noticed the Predator child was no longer donning the sling!

Concerned, Karin stood the alien child up, careful to avoid the blades jutting from his wrist band, "Oh Striker! Where's your sling? Your arm won't…heal?"

The redhead felt his arm and he didn't even wince or anything. She couldn't feel the fracture she'd felt the previous night and he didn't seem pained anymore.

"Well I'll be damned. You're better? You healed a fracture overnight? Jeez! That's absolutely amazing!" she marveled.

Striker squeezed his fist and his wrist blades retracted into a safe position as he stared at Karin knelt before him; which put them eye to eye.

"_Karin," _he rasped.

She nodded, "Yes. That's right."

He cocked his head a moment and then patted his green speckled stomach. "Oh. You're hungry. Well…I don't know if we've got any lizards for you on hand…but…I'll bet there's some Jerky for you. You'd like that. Come on Striker." Karin said standing.

_Rattling lightly in his throat Striker followed Karin out of the tent and grabbed his mask. His arm felt much better. That silly cloth sling had been a pain in the butt…but seemed to provide a bit of comfort. He must've taken it off during the night or something…in any case he was glad to be rid of it and have his working limb back._

_Though they **could** be hurt Predators had a broad threshold for pain and a superb healing ability. They couldn't regenerate limbs or anything like a lizard but broken bones and flesh wounds took very little time to heal. Young ones in particular seemed to possess a rather potent immune/healing system. They needed it to survive and develop correctly. If you couldn't heal quickly you could be killed off. _

_Striker had his bearer to thank for his supreme healing ability. While carried in the womb; much like humans; his mother passed on her strong immune system/healing ability to all her offspring. The healthier and stronger the female the more likely the offspring would survive and his mother was the favorite mate of the clan leader which meant she was the best of the best._

_As Striker exited the tent he noticed the camp was alive with activity. The Ooman males were tearing down the cloth dwellings and putting everything away. They…were leaving? But where to? He couldn't go with them wherever they were planning on going because he remembered that he had to get to get back to the ship. This would be the perfect opportunity to make a break for it since the Oomans all were occupied with other things and Karin seemed to be the only one intent on watching him. _

_The young Predator had to admit this encounter had been very educational. Above all he'd learned that hunting Oomans wasn't as easy as he'd initially thought. His Sire had been right…hunts were meant for grown warriors. He'd learned much from his prey…stuff he'd remember when he got big enough to hunt them efficiently. But not Karin. He'd never hunt her. _

_But before he did that he'd get something to eat._

Rummaging through the food supplies Karin cracked open a tin of beef jerky and pulled out a piece of the dried meat to give to Striker. "Here you go Striker. Try this."

Cautious he snatched the jerky out of her hand and examined it. Lightly he touched a mandible to it and slowly took a bite. His eyes lit up and in barely a second he wolfed down the jerky stick.

"_That_ good huh? Here's some more." Karin smiled giving him a few more strips.

The alien consumed them in a similar fashion and purred gently, clicking his mandibles in a satisfied sort of way. Then he lifted the mask in his hand to his face and clasped it in place.

Still beaming Karin patted his head, "I don't know what it is about you…but you're actually pretty cute... Don't let the others know K?"

He tipped his head in a kind of nod/bow which Karin thought odd…until he whirled and dashed off into the jungle beyond!

"Striker! Stop! Where are you going?" the medic called after him…but he was gone.

Juan who was closest to her looked up from his work, "What happened Kar?"

"He…he just ran off!" she explained in shock.

"The little dude? Where?" he asked.

At once Mike strode over and demanded, "What's going on?"

"Striker just RAN off!" Karin shouted trying to follow in the direction he went.

The commander stopped her, "Let him go Karin."

"But…"

"Look Karin. If he has 'friends' nearby, they might be looking for him. Better to have him find them than THEY find us. Besides, we can't be distracted watching him if we're going into a combat situation. He'll be fine…he's probably just going out to rejoin his friends." Mike stated soothingly.

The medic sniffed back a small tear. She had become attached to the little guy…and he just left. But…it was probably for the best. She only hoped he'd find his friends and return to his home safely.

………………………

A few hours later in a clearing………

_Striker stopped dead in his tracks when he came to a clearing…the clearing where the ship was…or rather…where it was SUPPOSED to be! His eyes widened in terror; something rarely seen in any Predator's eyes. The ship was gone! Striker couldn't make a sound as he viewed the impressions in the ground and the flattened vegetation where the hunting ship's landing platform had rested only earlier yesterday! They LEFT ALREADY! But…he'd only been gone a day and a night! Why had they left SO SOON! This couldn't be happening!_

_Dumbly he strode into the barren patch, his mandibles quivering in a sign of nervous tension or grief behind his mask. They hadn't left very long ago…the ground was still warm from the take off. He'd missed it! Shaking in a volatile mixture of rage, grief, shock, and fear the young Predator threw back his head and shrieked raggedly into the blue alien sky as if hopelessly trying to make his voice heard across space. How could he have been SO FOOLISH! He'd wasted his time at the Ooman camp and now he was abandoned on this planet with no hope of rescue. None of his kin knew he was here and the Hunters would not trifle with the rescue of a mere offspring too headstrong to realize the folly of trying to hunt at such an early age._

_Predators didn't cry… they were incapable of such a human emotion. Fear mixed with anger and uncertainty remained the closest emotion and they expressed it only alone and in the direst of circumstances. And Striker's position was dire indeed. He was alone; the only one of his kind; on an alien planet inhabited by Oomans. Even though he was but a child he knew that he'd never again view his home world, his kin, or anything he knew. His thoughts were construed about his mind like blind entities stumbling inside, trying to find their way into certainty. What was he to do? What?_


	6. Reunited

**Striker: Reunited**

A little more than an hour later…

Karin sighed as she marched behind her comrades with a heavy pack on her back. Her platoon was very efficient in their movements and in no time they were underway with their spy captive out in front with Rick and Juan on either side of him to ensure he wouldn't escape. Since Juan was their communication/translator officer, he was next to the spy at all times to interpret his directions and what not. Rick simply marched next him as extra incentive to keep his ass moving and make sure he didn't make a break for it. Commander Mike stood directly behind them making hand gestures to direct the platoon as we marched toward our objective.

Karin was second from the back. Hayes trudged behind her armed and ready for action. There seemed to be less enthusiasm in the medic's strides as she made her way through the dense foliage and Hayes noticed.

Whispering in a low tone the blonde Texan asked, "You alright Kar? Haven't said a word all mornin'."

She repositioned her pack shrugging, "Just don't have much to say I guess."

"You miss the little guy don't ya?" he stated giving her a knowing look.

"I'm not sure why…I feel worried about him." Karin admitted.

Hayes grinned, "I'd be more worried about anyone who meets up with him! He's a tough little fire pisser Karin and I just know he's fine. In fact I'll just bet he's back with his buddies and on his way home or something."

Karin smiled almost fakely, "I guess you're right." She still didn't feel too much better. As hard as she'd wanted to NOT get attached to Striker she just couldn't help it. The medic had never had children and wasn't even married but something motherly lit up inside her when she cared for the alien child. Maybe it had been his instant attachment to her that stirred those feelings? She couldn't say.

All at once the Commander held up a hand to instantly halt the platoon. Then he silently began pointing in directions and the soldiers all branched off in the ways he indicated. Something was up. Karin lifted her rifle, steadying her anxious breathing as she crouched beneath the foliage. Either the Commander saw something or they were near their objective. A distinct hand signal told her instantly that the objective was just ahead: the spy's camp…or _hopefully_ it was.

Commander Mike jerked his head, pointing at Shayne their dark skinned Italian demolitions expert and their silent seventh member Butch. Butch was a tall, lanky black guy who didn't say much. His specialty was mostly intelligence and strategies, but he could fight as well. Though he was highly intelligent he seemed to keep to himself but he was definitely reliable in any combat situation and stuck close the Commander to plan out any combat move they made. Apparently Mike wanted him and Shayne to flank right to check out the condition of the camp beyond…do a little scouting before we all moved in. The two men nodded and slunk deep into the brush, silent as possible.

Only a few sparse minutes passed before Shayne returned, his face a mask of disbelieving horror. Though they were supposed to be silent the man whispered, "Sir…you'd better take a look at this."

Mike glanced around and Rick looked like he was ready to cuss Shayne out for speaking aloud but decided it must be serious. Slowly the platoon moved forward, weapons at the ready until they entered a clearing. A hushed hiss of curses and oaths passed the soldiers' lips at the sight they beheld. The spy had told true…it was the location of the rebel camp. But the camp was utterly trashed…and no one was left alive.

The stick huts they'd been using for shelters were wrecked into twisted piles of splinters and some were nothing more than spots of ash. Thousands of shell casings littered the jungle floor, shining their brassy finish in the sunlight. The surrounding trees looked shredded from gunfire and the bark even appeared charred on some of the trunks. However, the camp condition paled next to the condition of the rebels. At least thirteen bodies strung in the trees upside down by their ankles hung around the perimeter of the camp stiff…cold…and skinless. Blackened pools of dried blood and hardened dried entrails lay beneath the corpses. Every piece of the bodies was covered with flies and all manners of carrion eating insects writhing and buzzing. Nearly brought to vomiting the soldiers put hands to their noses to try and shut out the horrid stink of decaying flesh. At least five other corpses, not skinned or strung up, lay in a neat line on the ground nearby. The naked bodies each revealed a darkened gory trench where the spines used to reside and the heads were missing too.

"_What_ in God's creation?" Sergeant Rick swore with a sickened grimace.

"I have no idea." Commander Mike stated trying to talk without taking in the vile smell in the air.

The spy with Rick was aghast; his face conveyed his horror and confusion. He began whispering hallowed prayers in Spanish and crossing himself vigorously.

Hayes kicked a few stray shell casings aside and shook his head, "Well whatever happened to these guys didn't go down without a fire fight. But who out here could DO this?"

"Not any of ours. Why the HELL did they skin and gut them! You think this is some cult thing? Witchcraft...voodoo ritual sacrifice or something?" Juan asked fingering the crucifix next to his dog tags.

Commander Mike shook his head, "If it was _that_ we'd see symbols or other stuff in the vicinity. I have NO idea what _this_ shit is. Sigh All right soldiers; let's…get these poor souls in the ground."

Slowly the soldiers prepared themselves for the terrible task of burying the bodies when all of a sudden the spy shoved Rick off balance and managed to snag the Sergeant's .45 caliber pistol from his holster. Somehow the bastard had wormed his way out of the ropes binding his wrists! Whirling around, he pointed the weapon at the first head closest to him: Karin's. The medic's blue eyes widened as she found herself staring directly down the terrible muzzle of the pistol with a sweating, wild eyed man commanding it. Though the .45 caliber was a sidearm Karin knew what it could do at close range. Every man in the platoon tensed but Commander Mike held up a silent hand to hold their fire. If anyone made a sudden move Karin would die and even if they managed to shoot him he could pull the trigger and kill her anyway.

Nervous, Juan tried to talk to the man in Spanish but the grieved, desperate man wouldn't listen. He held the gun steady at the woman's head, breathing in short angered heaves. Seeing his comrades slain like this obviously pushed him straight into panicked insanity. Nothing mattered anymore.

That's when a twig snapped from above. Suddenly, before anyone could react, a dark form dropped down from above and a high pitched shriek pierced the air! The spy fired his pistol but the assailant slammed into his chest and face, making the man's aim flail wildly off target and the bullet whizzed into the branches. Karin screamed and the platoon shouted as the spy fell backward with a small, familiar dervish latched to his neck. Before they could blink a flash of metal appeared and a bright crimson stream of arterial spray ejected from the spy's jugular! He fell hard onto his back choking on the viscous blood filling the back of his throat cavity. Convulsively his body quaked as he arched his back in death throws until at last his life flittered away into the bloody pools beneath his head.

Karin's hand was at her mouth but she uttered, "Striker…!"

At the sound of his human given name the little alien turned around and looked at the woman with blood dripping from his drawn wrist blades. As if nothing happened he sheathed the blades, jumped off the corpse's chest, and came up to the medic with a chirping rattle.

"Ho-ly _SHIT_!" Rick cursed with increasing volume. "He just killed that mother-…!"

Karin knelt down when Striker came close to her. He cocked his largish head, spattered with blood and reached over and took Karin's hand. Eager he tugged her arm and pulled her in the direction of the body as if wanting to show her what he did! Almost appalled Karin stood but allowed herself be pulled over to the corpse. Striker released her hand and raced over to his kill standing over the body with a proud posture in his stout little body as if to say, "_Look what I did!"_

The medic felt mortified and shocked that the baby alien had done such a horribly violent act and seemed so full of pride because of it and yet she also felt touched that he'd done such a risky feat just to save her life. He could've been shot and killed too but…

Unsure of what to say or do the medic turned to her superior. The Commander seemed just as jarred from the sudden slaying.

Finally Rick scrunched his dark face in disbelief, "You don't suppose…HE did all this?"

Karin shook her head, "No. He couldn't have done all this by himself!"

Striker noticed the other bodies strewn about and slowly approached them, staring at them in wonder. The platoon watched him intently, unsure how to respond.

…………….

_Striker observed the dead Ooman bodies strung up in the trees. His kind had been here! The skinned, spineless corpses proved it irrevocably. But…now they were all gone…leaving him alone on this planet. Part of his soul swelled with unimaginable pride at the kill he'd just made. He'd killed his first Ooman male and no one helped him! Oh, if only his mother could see! True…she'd be angered beyond all recognition for his disobedience and foolhardiness, but deep down she'd feel pride in her offspring's early accomplishment._

_Still the other part of his soul grieved with sorrow at his abandonment. It was no one's fault but his own that he was in this situation. He kicked himself. Sure he'd made a kill but if there was no one to praise him or acknowledge his triumph then what honor was there to attain? His bearer, his Sire, his Clan would never know because he was lost and alone. Never again would he see any of them nor reap the glory of his kill._

_Not long after discovering his predicament he sat down for the longest time to grieve within and try to come up with a viable solution for his plight. What would he do? Where should he go? How was he to survive on this alien world? **Could** he survive? Probably…there were many creatures to hunt here that would satisfy his hunger. But hunting was only one aspect of survival. He'd need a shelter, hydration, and maybe much more._

_Aimless he trudged away from the clearing thinking and wallowing in his strife. Mentally he beat himself for feeling sorry for himself. Self pity was VERY unbecoming of a Predator warrior. Well…he wasn't a warrior…but he **would** be. He lifted his head with forced determination. Yes he was in a terrible situation but he'd persevere. He was a strong warrior! He feared nothing! He would overcome no matter what!_

_That's when his keen ears picked up Ooman noises through the thick foliage a ways ahead. His mind wandered back to the Oomans he'd stayed with and the female Karin. Was it them? _

_Immediately his proud little warrior heart lashed out. **'NO! Don't go to them! They're the reason you're in this whole mess! You don't need them! You are brave, strong, and independent. No Predator warrior needs help to survive…ESPECIALLY not from Oomans!'**_

_He nodded to himself but then his young reason butted in, **'What do YOU know about this world? Hmm? Nothing! These Oomans might be the key to your survival. You don't have to rely on them but maybe you could learn from them. The female Karin isn't so bad. She could help you. You could try!"**_

_Both tugged at his soul until at last he devised a compromise. Hurriedly he found a tree and climbed it with the agility of a cat. He rattled with exhilaration since he enjoyed climbing. Spotting the next tree he leaped and caught a branch, shimmying down its length and then jumping to another tree and another. At last he spotted the blazing heat signatures of the Oomans below. They stuck out like lights in the darkness. Quietly he settled in the nook of a mossy branch and watched them; still unsure if he should show himself or just observe. That's when the Ooman whom he'd speared the night before made a bold move and thrust a stolen object in the face of the female Karin. Striker recognized the object as a weapon. The male intended to harm Karin and he felt suddenly angered by this. He was in perfect position for a surprise attack… so he attacked!_

…………………………

"Well shit! _Now_ what are we gonna do?" Hayes cursed.

The Commander stroked his black mustache; his thinking signal.

"Sir…he saved my life." Karin piped up.

He acknowledged her comment with a nod. "Yes…and the other night he did as well. But now my only question is what do we do with him?"

Striker stopped observing the carcasses of men and cocked his head as if trying to interpret what the soldiers were talking about. Caringly Karin knelt down next to him staring into his largish yellow eyes directly.

"You saved me…thank you Striker."

He blinked at her, flexing his stubby mandibles slowly with a soft rattle. Unhurriedly Karin made gestures as she asked, "What happened to you? Where have you been?"

Of course he didn't understand her alien Ooman words, but Striker desperately wanted to "tell" her what had happened. Was there any way to get her to understand? At that moment he got an idea. Deliberately he glanced around him and picked up seven empty bullets and set them upright on the ground.

"What's he doing?" Hayes asked stepping closer.

"I'm not sure…" Karin replied watching Striker.

Not stopping the little Predator found a small piece of wood and set it down. Then he removed a small bone chain from his neck and set it atop the piece of wood. Then he popped one of the bones off the chain and set it apart on the wood as well. He looked up at Karin and pointed at the seven bullets and then at her and the men.

The Commander's eyes widened, "Well I'll be damned…those bullets are us!"

Karin nodded deeply at him to indicate she understood. Striker then pointed to the lone bone piece he'd ripped from the necklace and pointed at himself. The woman bobbed her head again. He then pointed to the bone necklace and pointed skyward.

"So that is you and those other bones are your friends." Karin confirmed.

Picking up the piece of wood with the bone chain atop it he slowly moved it over his head making a hissing noise that oddly sounded like a kid imitating a rocket ship. Then he landed the 'ship', picked up the bone chain and moved it away from the wood. Carefully he selected the bone that represented him and made it 'walk' in the opposite direction of the bone chain. He looked at Karin to make sure she seemed to understand. The woman nodded; an obvious sign of confirmation; so he continued. In no time the bone was amongst the bullets to show the time he spent with the platoon. When he reached for the bone chain and piece of wood a saddened look flashed over his expressive eyes. Placing the chain on the wood again he made the 'ship' take off. Then he 'ran' the bone back to where the piece of wood used to be and made a soft warble.

Karin expelled a sorrowful breath from her mouth when she understood what had happened to him. "He got left behind…"

"Huh! E.T. scenario." Hayes stated.

"That's _NOT_ funny Hayes! Striker got _left_ behind! Didn't you ever get lost in a store when you were a little boy? _I did_ and I bawled my eyes out until some store clerk helped me find my parents." Karin chastised with slight venom.

The broad Texan held up a defensive hand, "I wasn't _trying_ to be funny Kar…just stating the obvious. Yeah, I got lost from my folks at a car show when I was about five and I ran around crying until I found them. He's sure being brave about it though."

All at once Juan spoke up, "Sir! The radio is working! I'm getting a signal."

Commander Mike turned to him, "Excellent. Notify our superiors of our…unique…situation."

The Hispanic communications officer put the radio to his ear, rambling off codes of admittance to their superiors across the country. Karin lowered her eyes momentarily. She wasn't sure what their superiors would order them to do with Striker but the medic could only imagine negative outcomes for the little alien. It didn't seem fair at all. Though he wasn't human and had displayed rather violent tendencies he wasn't all bad. In fact he seemed more child than monster. Just a lost child.

After a few minutes of talking the mechanical voice crackled on the other end of the radio and Juan broke out a map with the Commander as the plotted a pick up location.

The mustached leader bit his lip in frustration and snatched the radio away from Juan. "But Sir! It will take us at the very least three days to make that distance. Isn't there a closer LZ...Yes Sir…understood Sir." Mike cursed under his breath and handed the radio back to Juan. "Alright Troops listen up! Our superiors are _very _interested in…Striker. We are to make a trek west to Sector G." Holding up the map he pointed the trek that they'd have to take.

Rick snorted, "Hell of a walk. I'd bet we'd be walking four days worth if nothing slows us."

"Why so far Sir?" Shayne questioned. The strategy didn't seem right to him.

"Apparently we're in a No Fly Zone and the closest clear LZ is that one…" Mike explained.

Shouldering his rifle Rick pointed to the bodies all around, "What about them? We gonna bury 'em or leave 'em?"

"Bury them quick like. One big grave." Commander Mike ordered. "Suppose we have _his_ friends to 'thank' for this." He made a motion at Striker.

"Sure made it easier for _us_ though." Rick commented unloading his shovel. "Alright! You heard the Commander! Get to diggin'…let's get these poor bastards in the ground quick so we can get underway!"


	7. The Trek

**Striker: The Trek**

**TO MY READERS: ** My deepest apologies for getting this out so late  I didn't mean to keep my readers waiting so long. I've just kind of hit a block with this story but hopefully I'll get past it and keep Striker rolling. Anyway, enjoy!

_Shortly after the burial of bodies…_

"Alright troops! Saddle up! We've got a long hike ahead of us so let's move!" Sergeant Rick shouted gruffly as he took point.

Commander Mike wiped his sweaty black mustache and beckoned to Karin. Striker stuck close to her but kept a comfortable distance from all the humans.

"Keep a _sharp_ eye on him Karin. Make sure he keeps up and doesn't fall behind or run off again. Right now he's our top priority according to our superiors. _You_ are in charge of him. Hayes! Juan! You take the spot behind her and watch him close too," he ordered.

The Texan and the Hispanic shouldered their M-16s and saluted smartly. Karin did like-wise. Striker gave the Commander a suspicious look and Mike pointed at him saying sternly, "And _you_…be good. Don't make me put a leash on you."

………………….

_Striker slit his eyes behind his mask. He recognized the one Karin called "Commander Mike" as the Ooman leader of the group. Every Ooman made that same gesture at him and did whatever he commanded. Kind of like his Sire Swift As Fate except thus far he hadn't seen this "Commander Mike" thrash anyone. What kind of leader **was** he if he never received challenges of his position? Was he **that** good of a fighter? Were the other Oomans just cowards? He couldn't begin to guess their methods or social structure. They were just…weird._

_At first, he'd guessed that the big male who hit his arm was in charge of the group...the one called "Rick". He yelled a lot and everyone obeyed him too. "Rick" seemed the toughest of the males and yet he answered to "Commander Mike" just like the others. Maybe "Commander Mike" was an elder of some kind. No…probably not. Who knew with Oomans? Anyway, Striker made sure to keep an eye on the big man at all times in case he decided to hit him again. If he tried, then **this** time he'd be ready for him._

_With every passing moment, Striker was learning more and more about the Ooman language. He began to recognize names and a sparse collection of words they used. Their vocal patterns seemed so unusual and high-pitched compared to the ones used by his race. How would he ever learn such an alien language? It seemed unfathomable to his young mind._

………………

Soon the platoon was on the march; Sergeant Rick at point, Butch and Shayne flanking him, Commander Mike behind them, Karin with Striker next to her, and Hayes and Juan at the rear. Using machetes the soldiers hacked a makeshift path through the dense jungle brush as they made their trek toward the faraway LZ. At first, they all assumed Striker would have trouble keeping up since he was so young and he had shorter legs. But much to their astonishment the little alien kept pace and even wanted to go faster; constantly getting ahead of Karin and looking back at her as if to say, 'Hurry up!' Karin couldn't believe his stamina.

As the journey progressed through the day, Karin noted the alien seemed bored with the walking. He trudged beside Karin, kicking stray rocks or pieces of wood and grabbing low hanging leaves and shredding them absently. Something any kid would do in a similar situation, except he wasn't complaining or constantly asking, 'Are we there yet? Are we there yet?' The redheaded medic couldn't help but smile at the obvious similarities between him and a human child.

Hayes noticed it too, "I think he's bored out of his mind."

The woman stole a glance over her shoulder smiling, "I know."

"Probably wonders just where the hell we're going." Mike eavesdropped in front of them. "How's he doing other than that Karin?"

"Perfectly fine. He's out-pacing me and my legs are twice as long as his!" she commented.

Hayes laughed, "Must be those raw lizards he eats! Protein is good for your stamina."

"Tell ya what, let's take a rest. Halt troops! Ten minute water break." Mike called out. Without hesitation, the soldiers dispersed to rest.

"I'll bet you'd like that. Won't ya?" Karin asked the little alien beside her.

Striker glanced between the three humans as they conversed but didn't seem to understand anything other than his name when spoken. All at once, he took a breath and mimicked Karin's last words, _"…Won't ya?"_

Mike turned around quick, "Did he just imitate you?"

The medic nodded, "Could I teach him some words while we rest sir?"

He shrugged, "I don't see why not…just keep it in low tones. We don't know who else is out here."

"…_who else is out here…?"_ Striker mimicked.

Karin took a seat on a fallen tree trunk and Hayes took a seat next to her. Striker glanced about with his yellow eyes at the other humans and determined they were resting so he leaned against the trunk near Karin. Lightly she tapped him and he jumped, backing away from her a bit.

"It's alright Striker. Come here," the redhead assured beckoning to him.

He cocked his head at the motion but slowly took a step toward her.

"That's right. Come here." She nodded with encouragement.

At last, the young Predator was next to her but wouldn't sit down; he just stood.

"What are you going to teach him?" Hayes asked quietly.

"I don't know. Where do you start?" the woman wondered aloud.

Lightly Hayes rested his M-16 across his knee, "Hey Striker."

The alien's mask turned in his direction.

A smirk crossed the Texan's face and he pointed to the weapon saying, "Gun…gun."

Striker cocked his head, _"Gun."_

The man nodded, "Yeah. Gun." Slowly he undid the holster on his belt and pulled out his Bowie knife with gold plated hilt, holding it up for the little guy to see. Even though he wore a mask, both humans could tell the young Predator was intrigued if not enthralled by the weapon.

"This is a knife. Knife." Hayes stated slowly holding up the blade.

Striker hissed the word, _"Knife."_

Hayes nodded, "Good."

Suddenly, Striker squeezed his fist and the dual set of wrist blade erupted from his gauntlet. Hayes and Karin jumped slightly.

"_Knife."_ Striker stated.

"Y…yeah. Knife." Hayes confirmed uneasily.

The little Predator sheathed the wrist blades and retrieved one of the daggers from his belt, _"Knife."_

Karin snickered, "Yes. Knife. You have a lot of knives."

As Hayes put away his knife, Striker did the same. Thinking a moment Hayes pointed to himself, "Male…male."

_Striker turned his head confused. Wasn't his name Hayes? What did 'male' mean?_

Seeing his perplexity Karin pointed to herself, "Female…female." Then she pointed to Hayes and back to herself, "Male…female…male…female."

Striker watched her and finally pointed to them saying, _"Male…female…"_ The two soldiers nodded and then the alien pointed to himself and asked with uncertainty, _"Male?"_

"Yes! Very good!" Karin praised. He learned quickly!

Directly Striker pointed to some of the other soldiers to confirm the word, _"Male?"_

"Yes."

"_Karin female. Hayes male. Striker male."_ Striker stated with more assurance now.

Thrilled, Karin and Hayes taught the alien more words until at last Commander Mike ordered the march once again. Even then, they didn't stop teaching. Striker possessed an insatiable need to learn and he was so sharp that the words stuck in his mind.

After awhile Striker suddenly stopped in his path, causing the three soldiers behind him to stop too. The young Predator turned his head slightly and then looked skyward.

"What's wrong? Why did he stop?" Commander Mike called back, noticing the back troops had stopped.

"Don't know sir!" Hayes shrugged.

All at once, a rumble of thunder rolled across the sky and a bright flash of jagged lightening flickered through the dense canopy. As if ripped open by the vicious bolt of lightening the sky let loose a heavy downpour of rain. Rapping against every vine, tree, and leaf the din of rain became almost deafening. Even though the vegetation was thick it didn't provide the travelers much shelter and in seconds all were soaked from the downpour.

_Striker shook his short dreadlocks as rain pattered his mask metallically. On his home world, moisture from the sky occurred frequently but this planet's moisture felt different. He couldn't explain it but Earth water tasted and felt different. It reminded him immediately that this was not his home. Before this downpour began, Striker could sense a barometric spike and the air felt charged with electricity and cooler. Such a strange sensation and now cool water soaked his flesh, which felt exceedingly good even though alien to him. The Oomans seemed oblivious until the moisture started pelting them. So unaware…how did they manage to survive?_

"Well I'll be damned! He knew it was going to rain! How'd he do that?" Hayes exclaimed.

Karin shrugged, "Probably an extra sense or something."

"Let's keep moving!" Rick barked almost irritated.

……………………….

_About two hours later…_

It rained the whole time they marched. Now all were soaked and not as grateful for the moisture as before. It made their packs much heavier and their boots squished uncomfortably. Striker didn't seem perturbed by the rain; he just kept walking with the troops. Then, as quickly as the rain had started, then it stopped. A few more minutes of walking and suddenly, Commander Mike halted the platoon, made a motion with his hand that told them to be silent, and ready themselves. He saw or heard something potentially dangerous.

_Noticing the Oomans change in demeanor and their halt Striker stopped in his path glancing about. Was there danger? Were they going to fight some unseen enemy? That's when he spotted several dozen glimpses of heat signatures through the vegetation and could hear the voices of other Oomans not far away. Were they going to attack them? He ducked down in a crouch…ready._

Commander Mike pointed, commanding Rick to scout ahead and the big dark skinned man did so, silent as the air. A few minutes passed by before he returned.

"A village sir."

"Rebels?" Mike inquired.

Rick shook his head, "No. Just a small village. Lots of women and children and old ones."

The commander nodded. "We could barter for some fresh provisions and rest here for the night if they will have us."

"Couldn't hurt sir." Rick commented.

Rising calmly the commander shouldered his rifle in a non-threatening posture. "Juan. Come with me. The rest of you hang back until I call for you. We're going to see if we can stay here for the night and get some fresh provisions."

_Striker waited with the platoon. He didn't understand what was happening but it wasn't as exciting as he'd originally thought. Didn't these Oomans do anything besides wander aimlessly? He snorted softly but tried to keep quiet as his patience wore thinner and thinner. All at once, a high-pitched squeal riveted his attention to the right. At first instinct, he thought the squeal to be a sign of distress, but this was followed by the pulsing sounds Oomans made when they were amused or happy. Very weird sound. Even through the foliage, he could make out several Ooman heat signatures…but these were different. They were…small! His size! Male Ooman offspring his size…He watched with growing interest as the young male Oomans ran about, though he couldn't tell exactly what they were doing. His pupils dilated with excitement…_

Nearly a half an hour passed before Commander Mike returned, "Alright troops, the elders of this village will let us stay for the night. But…we can't let them see _him_."

Karin's face became a mask wrought with concern, "But…where's he supposed to sleep? You want him to sleep out here all alone?"

"I don't WANT it…but we can't reveal him or Lord knows what could happen. They could panic and harm him. I think the only way will be for one of you to stick around and watch him from here. However, you must also keep out of sight so as not to attract attention." Mike explained.

The female medic tapped her heals smartly, "Sir. I accept the responsibility. I will watch Striker."

"I thought you might. Wait…where the HELL did he go?" the commander asked with great worry.

Karin's eyes darted about but the little alien had disappeared! "Where? He was JUST here!"

"Aw, DAMMIT! He's run off!" Rick cursed throwing a cigar stub to the wet soiled jungle floor.

"But where?" Hayes scratched his head.

…………………………….

_Striker wasn't far. When Karin was talking and not paying attention to him, he slipped off into the jungle. He wanted to see these Ooman males that were his size up close. The little Predator couldn't help himself. It was hard wired into his brain to stalk, observe, and kill things. He'd been a bit surprised when he'd encountered Karin and the other full-grown Oomans because he didn't realize how large they were. But these Oomans were just his size. Some were bigger than he was, but not even close to mature._

_He stalked silent as a shadow, barely stirring the ferns about him. At last, he was in a perfect position to watch these male Oomans. His masked face cocked with curious interest. The young males appeared to be engaging in some sort of activity that involved a funny shaped object and lots of running. Two rows of boys lined up facing each other close to the ground, seeming to square off in a challenging sort of demeanor. One of the young males was standing behind the line shouting something and when he made a certain sound the action began. Striker's head bobbed with interest when the two lines of boys collided, pushing, shoving, and grunting for position. What…what were they doing? Were they training for some sort of combat? The little Predator just couldn't wrap his mind around this alien activity. Nevertheless, he couldn't tear his gaze away._

_As the two lines of boys grappled, the young male who'd been shouting held up the funny shaped object and scanned the area. Suddenly he reared back and threw the object to another boy farther down the way. The object was easily caught, but before he could get very far a pair of Ooman males set upon the object carrier and wrestled him to the ground! Striker was enthralled for an instant. What was this strange action?_

_Much to Striker's shock the strange object was thrown from the pile of boys and it bounced only a few feet in front of him, rolling awkwardly in his direction. He stared at the object and curiously plucked it up. It was constructed out of some Ooman material and was extremely lightweight and spongy feeling. Turning it over in his hands, he observed it until suddenly one of the young males burst through the shrubbery and stopped just short of him. Caught off guard Striker stood inert, holding the boy's object unsure what to do. For a few moments the two young male beings stared at each other. Predator and Ooman. Finally, the boy uttered something in his weird Ooman language and made a gesture that indicated he wanted the oblong thing. The sudden encounter stunned the Predator child making him momentarily forget he was trying to hunt. His curiosity seemed to be taking over for the moment._

_The Ooman child made the same gesture at him and without knowing why Striker tossed the object at him. Catching it with both hands, the boy showed his teeth which seemed to be a friendly expression among Oomans…strange. Then the boy shouted for his companions and Striker stiffened. Great…now they ALL knew where he was! Should he run? Should he fight them? He held his ground as the entire group of smallish Ooman males rustled their way through the foliage. Soon they were all standing before him whispering and staring. The boy with the object showed his teeth again and made a beckoning gesture like the one Karin made to him. He wanted him to come closer. Why? Was this a trap or trick of some kind? Ever paranoid the Predator child hesitated, wary of the Ooman boy and his ilk. His fingers thrummed the air nervously. There were at least a dozen of these Oomans._

_Then, all at once, the boy holding the funny object tossed it at Striker and the little Predator caught it with one hand. The group of boys made impressed noises chattering amongst themselves. Striker understood none of the jabbering but was beginning to understand…they wanted him to join in their strange activity. Rattling softly he tossed the object back at the boy and he tried to catch it with one hand but missed. _

_The boy showed his teeth again and beckoned with his hand again. Less wary now, Striker came closer and the boys began to talk all at once again, seeming to ask him to come with them. Funny creature these Oomans. They were actually somewhat friendly…or too curious. In no time, the boys had reclaimed the field leading their new 'friend' out into the open._

…………………..

"Oh…shit in HELL!" Rick cursed when he spotted where Striker was.

The other soldiers instantly saw him too amongst a large group of young boys of varying age. They were all gathered around the little alien and he seemed nervous since he kept looking over his shoulder and trying to keep all of them in sight. One of the boys was holding a Nerf-like football and seemed to be showing it to Striker.

"They're…trying to get him to play." Karin realized almost brought to a smile but knew this wasn't a good thing. Now their secret was exposed and not only that there was potential danger to the children. Striker could unleash those blades of his and…

Suddenly a most unexpected thing happened. As Striker was standing amongst the boys, three of the local village dogs spotted him and instantly they knew he wasn't human. Like a pack of ravening wolves, the animals erupted into a running snarling mass of teeth and fur! Their vicious barking immediately caught Striker's attention because they were charging straight for him.

"STRIKER!" Karin shouted desperate to aide the alien child, but it was too late.

The boys tried to stop the crazed dogs but they couldn't stop them. Striker held his ground, snarled and unleashed his wrist blades just as the first dog set upon him! Shrieking loudly the little Predator drove the blades into the dog's throat, causing arterial spray to coat his masked face. Mortally wounded the dog yelped horrendously thrashing all its limbs wildly. However, Striker wasn't quick enough to fend off the other two dogs. With horrible snarling one dog clamped down on the little alien's arm, shaking it violently while the other snapped down on a leg. Striker's pained shrieking rang out as his glowing green blood viewed the world for the first time, revealing instantly that he wasn't human at all. At the sight of his alien blood, the group of boys backed away with fearful looks in their eyes.

Desperate to save him Karin barreled through the brush as fast as she could but she knew she wouldn't get there in time. But Striker was far from done. He let forth a snarling shriek and buried his wrist blades straight into the skull of the dog holding his arm. The animal stiffened, jaws going slack as its brain was pierced. Convulsing the dog dropped, mouth opening and closing. Luminescent green blood dripped down the alien child's bitten arm but he had to ignore it and tend to the other dog tearing up his leg. Striker growled and slashed down onto the dog's back, but only managed to wound it. Yelping, the canine released its hold but still snarled at the alien. Striker limped into a ready stance brandishing his blades with fierce determination. The dog bared its teeth and lunged for the alien's throat! But, before it could get very far a deafening gunshot rang out and the animal rolled across the ground, its head plastered by grisly bullet hole.

The little Predator shrieked in surprise and whirled around to see Karin, lowering her gun. She sighed and shouldered the M-16. "Oh God! Striker! Are you alright?" she asked with great worry.

Striker chattered in a pained way. His left thigh and arm were torn up from the dogs' attacks and his green blood plopped steadily to the jungle floor. As Karin raced up to him, the Predator child swayed in his steps and plopped down on his bottom visibly hurt and shaken from the attack. With quick movements, Karin delved into her med pack and pulled out a tourniquet. In a couple minutes, she banded Striker's little arm and leg to stop the blood flow. He hissed and mewled as her touching hurt his ravaged flesh.

"Shh…shh. It's all right Striker. I know this hurts…just hold still," she soothed.

The mask turned at her regarding her for a moment and then noticed the rest of the soldiers approaching quickly.

"Aww man! Is…is he alright?" Hayes asked noting the glowing alien color of Striker's blood.

"He's chewed up pretty bad. If I can stitch these and keep them from becoming infected, he should be fine. Problem is…I don't know if he can handle our kinds of antiseptics or if it would even help him." Karin explained threading a surgeon's needle.

Rick surveyed the dog corpses. A ghost of a smirk flickered across his dark face, "That's one hell of a job he did. Little guy protected himself as good as any soldier."

Karin smiled a bit using an alcohol wipe to clean the alien's wounds, "Yeah. You were really brave Striker."

He hissed unpleasantly at the alcohol application.

Commander Mike pursed his lips as the village adults began to rush over to find out what all the commotion was. "Well so much for keeping him hidden. Karin, Hayes take Striker away from here. We don't need any further exposure. The rest of you…come with me." The mustached commander held up his hands at the small crowd of boys, "Alright kids let's go on home!"

Juan translated firmly shooing the young boys who'd witnessed the split second drama unfold. Some still had their mouths agape in shock. Whether it was the violent attack or the realization of Striker's inhumanity, they couldn't be sure. Worried parents claimed their boys and were trying to see what had transpired. The soldiers insisted they stay back but didn't get violent in any way.

Meanwhile, Hayes gently picked up Striker in a cradle carry and began to trek back into the jungle where they could medically help him out of sight of the locals. The alien child growled lightly at the treatment but didn't fight Hayes due to the pain. At last, Karin found a spot next to a large tree and unloaded her tent canvas so she could work on Striker's wounds on a relatively clean surface. Hayes put Striker's small body down which made him snarl in pain.

"Sorry little guy." Hayes apologized though he didn't know why.

Immediately Karin swabbed the wound again and then disinfected the surgeon's needle. Striker watched her intently until Karin took his arm and quickly poked the needle through his green striped and speckled flesh. Not liking that very much, Striker hissed in protest.

"I know…stitches aren't fun. But you need them." Karin insisted, sewing as her training had taught her.

Working diligently Karin stitched up Striker's arm and leg in less than an hour. Striker was tough about it and didn't make much noise as she stitched and medicated him.

After she was done, Striker looked up at her and said in a small growling voice, _"Knife…good. Gun…good. Kar-in…good."_

The redhead smiled at him, "Striker good too."

However, Karin was having thoughts. It was sweet what Striker said…but was it true. She and her platoon were leading him to a place where their government would take him away. Lord only knew what they would do to him; what kinds of tests they would run on him. How could she be a good person if she did that? How?


	8. Taken

**Striker: Taken**

_Not long after Striker's attack…_

Karin had finished her first aide on Striker and he seemed to be fine. The medic guessed that if he was able to heal a minor fracture overnight then these gashes would heal just as quickly, provided he didn't get some sort of infection. She'd be certain to keep the wounds clean until then. All at once, the rest of the soldiers arrived, Commander Mike in the lead.

He had a frustrated look on his face, "Well now we can't stay here, we're going to have to keep going. How far are we from the LZ anyway Butch?"

The African American who normally kept silent shouldered his rifle and said, "I'd estimate no more than a day and a half march."

"Alright then. Let's move out then troops." The mustached leader ordered.

Karin knelt down near Striker, "But he's hurt sir!"

"Well…carry him then. Hayes! Make yourself useful." Rick ordered gruffly.

Saluting the Texan secured his rifle and scooped the little alien up in a cradle carry. Striker growled lightly, objecting to being held.

"Oh be quiet you little fire pisser. It's orders." He interjected to the protestor.

_Striker slit his yellow eyes, twitching his small mandibles in an agitated manner. He didn't NEED carried! Just because he'd been attacked didn't mean he was weak! He could walk by himself and didn't need an Ooman like Hayes to carry him. What was it with these Oomans anyway? They seemed to treat him like he was fragile or something. Why did they dote on him so? He wasn't one of their offspring but they were treating him as if he was! Carrying him, fixing his wounds, protecting him, and teaching him; especially Karin. Was it her female instinct to care for young ones even if they weren't her own? His young mind couldn't wrap around this behavior._

_The next day after a few hours of sleep in the jungle…_

Rick and Commander Mike were the first ones to awaken from their brief three hours of sleep. Deciding the troops deserved a few more minutes of rest they held off waking them. Bored and craving, Rick whipped out a cigar from a large pocket in his camouflage vest. He was running out of those…but since they'd be meeting a chopper at the LZ then he could restock. Feeling around the black sergeant tried to find his lighter and at last found it. The little chrome lighter stamped with a scantily clad woman illustration had belonged to his late father during Vietnam and he passed it on to him the day he enlisted. It held great significance for him and he used it constantly, always making sure to refill it if it ran out of lighter fluid. Biting the tip of his cigar off, he spat it to the dirt and proceeded to light his morning smoke. A small puff and the tar and nicotine hit his system, making him feel more at ease.

As he puffed away he jumped when he noticed Striker standing near him, head cocked. Thankfully, for Rick he'd decided to wear his mask.

"Hey runt. What are ya doin' up?" he grunted through the cigar.

Commander Mike noticed him too but just grinned at the little fellah.

Taking a long draw on his smoke Rick exhaled a substantial cloud from his nostrils and through his puckered lips. Striker tipped his head, watching the man smoke like it was TV.

Sergeant Rick pointed at him with the burning cigar, "Bet you're sore eh? Those dogs did a real number on you. Not half of what you did to them though." He barked a quick laugh, "I'll bet you hate me still though huh?"

Naturally, the Predator child didn't respond but at once pointed to Rick's cigar. The man puffed again looking at him. A sly smile spread over his dark face, "You wanna try the Sarge's cigar kid?"

Striker clicked and Commander Mike rolled his eyes, "Geez Rick! Don't get him hooked on that! It's bad enough that YOU smoke like a friggin' freight train."

"Now Sir, you're telling me your old man never sat you down on his knee and offered you a smoke just to watch you choke and break you of ever wanting to smoke when you were a kid?" Rick commented.

"Obviously it didn't work on you," the Commander shook his head. "Honestly, it worked on me. Took one puff of my dad's cigarette when he wasn't looking and thought I'd die right there."

Rick snickered and drew most of the goody out of the cigar before offering it to Striker, "You want it? You've got it…but I guaran-damn-tee you're gonna hate it."

_Taking the smoking tube, Striker observed it. What was this burning stick for? Why was the big man breathing on it then releasing vapor? Slowly he removed his mask, continuing to stare at the object. The burning tip appeared hot white in his heat vision so he knew Rick was putting the cool end in his mouth. Curious he touched a mandible to the side of it and drew in a small breath to "scent taste" the object. The part that hadn't been burned actually 'smelled' good but the burning end was pungent and unpleasant. He looked at the big man a moment, trying to remember what he'd done with the stick. Should he try that too?_

_Striker still had a grievance with the big man named Rick for hitting him in the beginning. But for the moment he put that aside, too curious about this weird stick in his hand. Emulating what he'd seen Rick do, Striker put the cool end of the cigar in his mouth._

"STRIKER!" Karin almost shouted upon waking and seeing the alien with a cigar in his toothy mouth.

_His yellow eyes slit in a confused way. What had he done?_

Forcefully, Karin snatched the cigar out of his teeth and shook it before his face, "NO Striker! This is BAD! Cigar…cigar BAD!"

The alien blinked at her and Karin glared daggers at Rick, "How _could_ you Sarge? He's just a little one! He doesn't even need to be exposed to second hand smoke, much less FIRST hand! What were you thinking?"

"Oh he's not hurt. I was just trying to teach him smoking wasn't good by giving him a taste of it." Rick stood shrugging.

"Please…don't give him one of THESE nasty things EVER again!" Karin scolded, stomping the rest of the cigar in the dirt.

Rick shrugged, "Alright, alright! Don't get your panties in a wad!"

Shaking his head Commander Mike began to wake the rest of the troops, "Up and at 'em men! Rest is over! We'll get to the LZ by today if we get started now so let's move!"

In no time, the troops were on the move, Striker now walking next to Karin instead of being carried.

……………………

_Many hours later under cloak of night…_

A blazing light through the tree signaled to the troops that the LZ lay straight ahead. Parting the branches, the platoon beheld a clearing with several tents and a couple transport choppers passively awaiting them. The outer perimeter guards met them with large assault weapons. Spreading their arms disarmingly, the platoon made certain they were viewed as allies and not enemies.

After the commander and the guards exchanged salutes, the higher-ranking one said choppily, "Commander Mike Sir! The General requested that you join him in his tent upon your arrival!"

"Understood." He responded and motioned his platoon forward. Upon seeing the little masked alien walking next to Karin, the two guards looked twice, to ensure their eyes didn't lie.

Crossing the open field the platoon approached the General's tent, which had several soldiers posted around it at the read. Customarily they saluted and allowed admittance for Commander Mike while the others waited outside. After a moment or so, he poked his head out, "Karin, bring Striker in."

The medic took a breath and patted her leg, "Come on Striker. Come on."

Eyeing the tent door suspiciously the little alien hesitated a moment, as if he thought better of entering the unknown domain. After a moment, though he followed Karin inside. Once they entered, they saw Commander Mike standing in front of the General…General Heingrid. Heingrid was a two star general of upper middle age, probably around 50 years old. He had the traditional military buzz cut to his peppered black hair and it covered his almost rectangular head well. His eyes resembled steel in color and had the same effect as a knife…sharp and glistening. At one time, he'd seen hard combat as indicated by the pinkish white scar across his chin and part of his right cheek. Most who knew Heingrid, recalled he received that scar and many like it on other parts of his body from combat missions as a Green Beret in his younger years. Now he saw little true combat and directed it from afar with superb skill and accuracy. He lacked facial hair now though a slight indication of dark hairs showed on his upper lip and in front of his ears. A very strongly built man of about 6'3 his very stature influenced respect and dignity.

Karin's eyes widened in a gasp, "_Dad?_"

Unlike most encounters, the General stood and gave a brief smile, "Good to see you again Karin."

The redheaded medic couldn't believe it. She never imagined in her wildest dreams that her father would be in the thick of this operation! Sure he a high ranking General but she never thought this…!

"Wha…what are you doing here…" remembering her status she saluted, "…sir."

He returned the salute curtly but soon looked upon the little creature standing next to her. "Well Karin…I'm here for…him. It is a 'him' isn't it?"

Karin nodded and the General leaned on the table before him, "Hmm. Not exactly what I envisioned when I was briefed about this."

"How did you know I was here?" Karin asked with a hint of venom.

He shrugged, "Actually I didn't. I was briefed about this…unique…situation and I couldn't say no. I had to see this for myself. So…what can you tell me about this little fellah?"

_Striker cocked his masked face up at the General and rattled. From the actions of Karin and especially from the Commander Mike, he determined that this new Ooman male was the higher leader. He seemed of older years and even he could see the irregular scars lining his face and body. The young Predator couldn't be for sure…but this Ooman COULD be an elder of some kind. Battle scars, large stature for an Ooman, and the others seemed submissive to him…it was possible. But what did this "elder" want with him? He kept looking at him and making gestures toward him. What was going on?_

Karin looked down at the alien child, "Sir…this is Striker. We found him a few days ago when he attacked on of our men." In the minutes that followed, Karin told the General, her father, everything that had transpired in the past few days regarding Striker. General Heingrid listened intently, seeming to leave nothing unheard.

Upon finishing her story, Karin bent down and undid the bandages around Striker's arm and leg to reveal the flesh had begun to seal already.

The General tipped his head, "Well now. That's quite a story. Fast little healer aren't ya?"

Karin directed her blue eyes at her father, "Sir…what happens now? You're not going to send him someplace where he'll be locked away, poked, and prodded his whole life?"

Heingrid leaned back in his chair, "Karin, we have to keep a lid on this. No one must know about him. Then again, he stands as living proof once and for all that we are not alone in the universe. There WILL be questions…many questions."

"He's NOT some kind of lab animal or exotic strain of bacteria! He's a sentient, intelligent being!" Karin burst out.

The General sighed, lacing his fingers. "I cannot guarantee anything Karin. But, I will do everything within my power to make sure he is treated with the utmost care. However…with a single order it could fall out of my hands."

Karin knew this to be true. The chain of command shifted and rotated like an intricately organized puzzle. One day her father would command this section, but a week later, he would be assigned some other division. A sick, tight feeling ground at Karin's throat.

"Under…stood, Sir." She said choked.

Her father stood up, "My orders are to bring him to the facility as soon as you arrived with him."

"Facility? What facility?" Commander Mike asked.

"That's classified Commander. As of now, you all are to return home. Your tour here is over. Inform your men and be ready to depart within the hour in Black Hawk 427. Dismissed."

Turning on heel the pair left, Karin's throat threatening to close as she held back a flood of emotion. Striker seemed to sense tenseness in Karin and rattled at her. She looked down and him and wanted to cry, it took every ounce of strength not to. Oh how she hated herself! Why did she go through with this? Why? She should've just left Striker in the jungle so he wouldn't be whisked off to some unknown place. But… would that have worked? Could he survive alone in the jungle? Probably…he already had a very developed sense of killing. Then again…that was the problem. What would happen, as he got older? He already tried to kill Hayes and he killed that spy. Without someone to stop him, would he keep killing people? Karin couldn't lie to herself…yes…he probably would. The medic felt torn in two directions and it hurt her to the core. She felt so helpless.

"Come on Striker…" she whispered. He followed uncertain.

…………………………

_Less than an hour later…_

The wind from the two helicopter's quadruple blades sent dust blowing in all directions and filled the air with a thundering thrum. It was time to leave. Working quickly and efficiently the platoon loaded their gear into the chopper that would take them away from the jungle they'd marched, fought, and bled in for so long. They were going home. While Striker was about to be taken to HIS new 'home' away from them.

_When the helicopters started up the masked alien child watched them with fascination, seemingly unaware of his upcoming fate. Then, without warning he felt a tiny prick in his arm. He hissed and turned around to see what had poked him. As he did his heat vision hazed, blobbing the heat colors with the non-heat colors. Nothing looked right. He swayed in his step. What…what was going on? Why couldn't he walk right? The moment before he passed out a distorted voice…Karin's voice…reverberated in his head, "Goodbye Striker."_

_He didn't understand what it meant. Slowly a relaxing blackness enveloped him and he lost all sense with reality._

Karin sat on the chopper floor watching one of the Rangers carry Striker's unconscious form into the other chopper. A sedative no doubt. Hope it doesn't hurt him. Karin let one single tear creep from the corner of her eye as the chopper hovered from the ground and she lost sight of the little alien child. She was going home…he could not…and she hated herself for that.


	9. The Facility

**Striker: The Facility**

_Hours later in an unknown location... _

General Heingrid nodded curtly to the soldiers and scientists he passed upon entering the top-secret research facility. The sterile white and metal walls surrounded everyone and cameras hidden everywhere observed every coming and going. This was one of the government's highest security and most secretive facilities. Only the most elite of the military and the scientific community ever saw this place and even fewer worked there. Its main function was to develop weapons and study any unknown phenomena. In this case, a young alien creature.

The General glanced back at the rolling gurney behind him to make sure the little alien was still under. No movement or sound out of him except for steady breaths. At least four soldiers on either side of the gurney made certain no one would halt the procession or the alien would awaken and escape. Heingrid seriously doubted that would happen. The only concern now was keeping the little one alive and healthy.

At last, three men and a woman in sterile white garb met the General in the hall.

Heingrid saluted curtly, "Dr. Mathis, Wever, Brody, and Gunheim."

Dr. Mathis, a dark complected man of medium stature, nodded in return. He was the scientist/doctor in charge of the others. Removing a pair of reading glasses from his smock pocket, he sidled up to the gurney to view the subject.

"How long has it been under?" he inquired with a serious tone.

"Nearly seven hours. But his condition has been stable the whole time." The General confirmed.

The other doctors moved around the gurney as well to see, the soldiers moved aside in turn.

Curious Dr. Mathis touched his latex gloved finger to the metal face plate that hid the alien's features and then turned to his fellow colleagues, "Take him into decontamination and remove anything metal from his person. Leave his clothes. I want everything else taken in for study. Before he wakes up get X-rays and CAT scans of his vitals. Put him in Holding Room Three for observation after that. Let me know the second he wakes up."

Nodding in confirmation the doctors dispersed and the soldiers pushed the gurney to the specified rooms.

………………….

_Nearly an hour and a half later in Holding Room Three…_

_Striker blinked dully. His heat vision appeared skewed and things still weren't right. He closed his eyes again, dizzied by the incomprehensible color signatures. Where was he now? What happened to him? One minute he was awake, standing next to Karin when he felt something poke his arm…then he was out like a light. He spread his little mandibles slightly and vaguely realized his mask was gone. Drawing in a breath, he 'tasted' the air. Not where he was before…somewhere different now. The air tasted funny…kind of nasty. Not fresh and humid but sterile and dry. He didn't like it._

_Again, the young Predator opened his eyes and the heat images seemed to solidify into distinguishable shapes again. However, the signatures were all cold and dead. No heat at all. Striker clicked and flexed his mandibles unpleasantly because he was thirsty…and hungry…mostly thirsty though. Groggily he sat up, blinking his largish yellow eyes as his vision returned to normal and his balance stabilized. Immediately he noted he was no longer in the jungle place. Now he appeared to be in a barren room alone. The only heat he could detect was in the four corners of the ceiling. Some type of electronic devices. What WAS this place? Where was he? Where was Karin?_

_Very gingerly, he stood up, spanning his short arms for balance. Why did he feel so weird? Was he sick? No…but it felt like it. Thirst nagged at his mind and dry throat. Urgently he scanned the smallish room for some sort of hydration but there was absolutely nothing in there…just walls and one metal door. Immediately he ambled over to the apparent exit, expecting it to open like the ones in his dwelling and on their ships. However, his approach solved nothing…the metal door didn't react at all. Angered by this Striker hissed dryly at the door and reached for a knife to slash at it. But…when he reached for a blade, he felt nothing but his loincloth and belt. Frantic he glanced at his side and shrieked. His weapons! They were gone! All of them! His mask too! Where were his things?_

_The little Predator's anger grew rapidly. Shrieking as loud as his dry throat allowed he bashed the door with his foot and hit it with his fists. It made no indication of opening. _

_Frustrated and pissed Striker clenched his fists shouting in his language, "What IS this! Where am I? Let me OUT of HERE! I'll KILL YOU ALL!"_

……………

_In a separate room not far away…_

The observation control center rippled with excitement and questions amongst those there. Inside the special room was dozens of monitors that could view any section of the facility at anytime and right now the focus was Holding Room Three.

Dr. Mathis turned to his female colleague Dr. Wever, a brown haired woman of middle age. She had a pretty face with dark eyes and kept her straight chocolate locks pulled back tight behind her head in a professional bun. Dr. Wever was the medical expert amongst her co-workers and a master in the field of psychology. She took her profession very seriously and was somewhat a perfectionist. This new assignment had her in a world of wonderment though. All her life she denied the existence of alien life and now…her thoughts had been thrown out the window. For now, she was in charge of this little creature's internal composition, behavior study; therefore, she had to comprehend all the X-rays and CAT scans to determine exactly what kind of being they were dealing with.

"He doesn't seem too happy does he?" Dr. Gunheim commented, in his faint German accented English. Gunheim was the oldest of the four head doctors/scientists. Bordering his middle fifties, the pepper haired man was rotund about the waist and had a large wrinkled head with a short silver goatee lining his wide chin. The man was a brilliant scientist and chemist, one of the best in the world.

"No not at all," the last man Dr. Brody agreed. Dr. Brody was a tall man, but not very strongly built as a soldier was. He had light colored brown hair and a tall rectangular shaped head with dull colored hazel eyes. A rather attractive man in the face, but he had an undeniable arrogance about him, as if his knowledge of behavior gave him an edge over others. Despite this, he had a right to some pride in his expertise since he was renowned for his intelligence. His expertise was in Behavioral Sciences and right now, his brain was honed in on the small subject on the monitor.

Dr. Mathis stroked his dark beard a moment and turned to Dr. Gunheim, "So what did you find?"

The German doctor coughed and looked at a clipboard of information, "We found four daggers, a spear, a mask, and some wrist gauntlets complete with ejectable blades. None of these metal objects contain any Earth elements. Our electron microscope reveals nothing familiar at all. However, whatever they are, they are superbly constructed and they are virtually indestructible…much stronger than any metal we possess. While the wrist weapon and spear have highly advanced design and triggering mechanisms we found no really useful technology on him."

The lead scientist sighed, "Damn. So close and yet so far."

For years, there had been unconfirmed reports of alien creatures possessing great technologies and killing a great number of men from all corners of the globe. Any scientist working in this top-secret facility knew this rumor but until now, there was no physical proof of such creatures. Dr. Mathis hoped that this little creature could provide them with some answers in the form of high tech weapons…but since he possessed none they'd have to settle for studying him as an alien life form.

Wever. "So…what can you tell us Dr. Wever?"

The brunette held up a large folder full of X-ray sheets and CAT scan reports. Abruptly she stood and placed the enlarged plastic scan sheets up to a lighted board on the other wall. "Well for a biped his constructed much like we are. His organs are much different and from these CAT scans I can somewhat determine that this organ here is his heart. It is much larger than I anticipated for a being of his size and it's composed of three large chambers instead of a human four."

"Hmm. Interesting. That might make it more efficient to move blood about the body." Dr. Mathis nodded pondering the pictures.

"I guessed that as well. His…lungs…are highly developed. He has nearly twice the capacity of a human lung and has much more 'blood' vesicles. His…'blood' is luminous green…and it has elements in it that I can't begin to guess what they are. But I surmise his immunity is highly developed considering how quickly his injuries heal. He seems to have a digestive system similar to ours in construction…but he also has a few organs that I have no idea what they're for yet."

Wever pulled out an X-ray sheet that displayed Striker's unique skeletal structure. "Now this is what I really found fascinating. His bones are denser than ours but look at this…," she pointed to a few sporadic lines along the ends of the leg bones, "These are his growth plates. Just LOOK at the spacing!"

The three men leaned in and Dr. Mathis took off his glasses, "Good LORD!"

Dr. Brody whistled low, "Whoa…he's going to be…a REALLY big boy. How tall do you think he'll be when he grows up?"

The woman pursed her lips in thought, "Well…this is a rough guess, but I'd definitely put him over the seven foot mark. Not only his growth plates, look how thick his muscle tissue is already. I know human children are probably poor comparison but his musculature is highly developed for such a young creature."

"So basically we've got a baby alien on our hands that's going to grow into one big, strong, son of a bitch." The General's voice finished from the door. The four doctors turned to him.

Dr. Wever nodded, "Basically…yes."

General Heingrid strode into the room, observing the sheets on the lit wall and the monitors. "Hard to believe that little fellah will get that big…if your hypothesis is to be believed. Is there anything else?"

The lady doctor adjusted her glasses a moment, "Yes. His eyes are constructed rather unusually. I'm not certain what his vision is like but we can test that later on. I'm certain though he doesn't see as we do. Other than his alien features, he's pretty close to us. Whatever he is…he's much more advanced in construction than humans."

Nodding the General watched the alien on the screen and mentioned, "You didn't give him any water?"

"Not as of yet. We don't want to give him something that might be toxic to him." Dr. Mathis explained.

Giving a disdainful look the General said, "What? Those sedatives dehydrate the subject. He's probably VERY thirsty. Give him some water for God sake! Now!"

"Y…yes sir," the scientist complied.

"No…wait. Give ME the water. I want to give it to him." Heingrid reconsidered.

"You sir?"

He nodded curtly, "Yes Doctor."

…………..

_Striker's head perked when he heard the sounds of footfalls outside his cell. Someone was coming and he readied himself for a quick escape when the door beeped and opened. Seeing a quick opportunity Striker leaped forward, trying to weasel his way through the opening door but bumped into a large human male. He hissed backing away as the largish man and a couple armed men entered the room. Striker knew him! It was that… 'Elder' from the jungle. What was he doing here?_

"Hey there Striker. You thirsty? Huh?" General Heingrid asked in a kind voice, holding out a canister of water to the little alien.

_Striker eyed the big Ooman 'Elder' mistrustfully. He was certain this guy was responsible for this imprisonment and he HATED that. No one puts him in a room and takes all his stuff! But…he had water. Flexing his smallish mandibles with longing Striker's mistrust began to fade as his thirst overtook his judgment. He was SO thirsty! Could he trust this Ooman? Was the water poisoned? Thirsty...so thirsty. Shaking the canister temptingly the Ooman urged him to come closer and take it. The little Predator wanted that water…but he couldn't trust him…could he?_

General Heingrid knelt down on one knee, kept his voice gentle, and his movements slow so he wouldn't appear intimidating or otherwise toward the young creature. From the look in Striker's yellow eyes, the seasoned veteran could see a great amount of paranoia. Course…he couldn't blame the little guy, in a strange place with strange beings of a different species. He had a right to be wary. Those eyes seemed very wanting too. He was definitely thirsty. Sedatives had a powerful dehydrating effect.

At last, the short alien stepped closer, keeping a trained eye on each human in the room and on the water canister too. His face parts moved a bit when he stopped inches from the canister. Suddenly he lashed out and snatched the water from the General before retreating a safer distance away with his prize. Clicking his mandibles against the container's sides Striker greedily drank the contents, spilling a bit in his urgency to quench his thirst.

"There ya go. Tastes good eh?" Heingrid soothed on one knee.

Soon the small Predator finished the water and sighed, putting the container on the floor and staring over at the General. For a moment he didn't move, just rattled softly in his throat.

The General patted the floor in front of him, "Come 'ere little guy. I'm not going bite."

_Squinting the Predator child recognized the motion, very similar to the one Karin made at him. This Ooman 'Elder' had given him water and thus far, he didn't feel weird from some hidden toxin in the liquid. Could he trust him? Clearly, he was in charge of the other Oomans he'd seen. It seemed he had his life in his hands and he didn't' relish the thought of that._

Noting the alien child wasn't coming any closer the General touched his chest saying slowly, "My name is Sherman…Sher-man."

Striker cocked his head and hissed, _"Ssshhher-mahn"_

The man's steel colored eyes glittered, "Good. Good!" He glanced about the sparsely furnished room, stood up and stared up at one of the cameras in the corner, "I want him moved to a different room now…something more comfortable. When is that habitat supposed to be finished for him?"

An intercom crackled on and Striker glanced about paranoid. Dr. Mathis's voice responded, "The habitat should be completed within the next couple of weeks. We have to get the security measures up and make sure there's no way he can get out."

The General slanted his jaw a bit, "Not good enough. I want it done THIS week. Is there a different place to hold him for now?"

"I suppose we could move him to Observatory 1. It's more spacious and…friendly. We'll have it ready within the hour." The doctor's voice explained.

"Very good and get him something to eat too."

……………………….

_Up in the control room…_

"Understood General Heingrid." Dr. Mathis stated with respect before switching off the intercom.

Tall Dr. Brody smacked his lips, "I wonder why he's so preoccupied with this little creature."

Dr. Mathis looked to his colleague. "He probably just wants to keep it comfortable and alive."

"No…it's something else besides that. I can just tell. He's got some ulterior motive." Dr. Brody suspected.

Dr. Wever rolled her eyes behind her stylish glasses, "Oh you're just paranoid. You know this alien is better alive than dead and so does the General. Keeping him alive and healthy is top priority."

"That may be so…but why does he insist on spending close contact with it?" Brody continued.

The bulbous German doctor Gunheim snorted, "Oh give it a rest Brody. Let's just do our jobs."

…………………

_A few hours later near Observatory Room 1…_

_Striker knew he couldn't escape. The Oomans all around him were much bigger than he was and carried those projectile weapons Karin and the other males in the jungle did. He wanted to get away and escape but he wondered just how he could accomplish that. For now, nothing seemed too threatening…no Ooman had tried an attack on him. For the most part this Ooman structure, from what he'd seen, was very clean and barren looking. Probably to make it easy for the guards to shoot anyone who tried to escape Striker decided sourly. These wide-open hallways provided no protection…just a clear view and path. He may have been young and headstrong but even HE could see that an escape would be suicide. Oomans were violent creatures anyway, he was certain they'd shoot him._

_Then the four soldiers around him halted and he stopped too, peering through their legs at another door. He hissed unpleasantly. Great…where would they put him now? He wished he had a weapon._

……………

General Heingrid retracted a card key from his vest pocket and swiped it in the door panel, ordering it to open. With a calm hiss the door slid open to reveal a large white wall room with a comfortable bed, a bathroom/sink area, and much to Heingrid's amusement a few toys.

He chuckled a bit, looking down at Striker who was staring in the room suspiciously, "Hmm! They must've thought you'd like to play with something.

The largish yellow eyes turned up at his voice but resumed their study of the room.

"There you go little guy. Your new home…at least until we get that habitat built for you," the General explained, though he was sure the alien didn't understand him, but exposure to a language was the best way to learn it.

_The soldiers parted, barring any escape and leaving a clear path into the room beyond. That made Striker uncomfortable. He didn't want to go in there. It didn't look dangerous…but he didn't like it. Growling in his child size timbre the young Predator narrowed his eyes and backed away from the doorway stubbornly. He wasn't going in there!_

The General smirked, "Oh come on now Striker it's not that bad is it?"

Giving him a quick glance the alien planted his feet with determination and said, _"Bad."_

Surprised by his unexpected growling voice Heingrid smiled, "Bad huh? Looks like Karin taught you a few words."

At the mention of the woman's name Striker glanced around expecting maybe to see her somewhere. Nothing. All at once the General nodded to one of the soldiers and with a light firm tap to the alien's bottom the man nudged Striker in the room with one foot. Before Striker could react the door slid shut behind him, trapping him inside. Enraged at being forced, Striker shrieked and threw himself against the metal door shouting in his alien language.

Heingrid sighed, "Hated to force him…but he needs to get used to it. He'll be here for a long while. Keep two guards near this door at all times. Three hour rotations."

…………….

_Striker was mad. Mad at the Oomans who'd put him here. Mad at himself for being so foolish and stowing away to this planet in the first place. Mad at Karin for abandoning him to these other Oomans. Mad at everything. He just wanted to go home. The young Predator didn't care if he'd get a horrible beating if he went home…he just wanted to be there with his bearer, with his friends, with his kind…not here on this Ooman world alone._

_Beating on the door until his fists and side were sore the child Predator finally realized it was useless. He couldn't break it down. Mad as hell he sat down on the floor, scraping his mandibles together, a Predator cue of agitation. He narrowed his eyes hatefully at the door before him. If he was older, he could rip that door off its foundations! His Sire Swift As Fate could do it without thinking about it. Someday…someday. When he was older these Oomans wouldn't be ABLE to shove him around. He wouldn't look up at them…HE would look down on THEM! Growling to himself, Striker imagined himself bigger…the way he would be in few years. _

"_**Just you wait Oomans…just…you…wait,"** he whispered to himself. _


	10. Tests

**Striker: Tests**

_The next day…_

_Striker awoke when the door to his room slid open. Immediately he was on his feet, facing the Ooman Elder called Sherman. The man showed his teeth in an Ooman friendly gesture…so weird. He hadn't slept much due to his imprisoned state but he wasn't too tired to defend himself or fight. To this moment Striker had already dealt the cell some serious destructive damage…it took him awhile since his strength was nowhere near adult potency but he messed it up good. He rattled at Sherman and the others with him._

General Heingrid sighed and eyed the little alien amongst the debris that was the room. "Well…I see you've been busy…and angry."

Everything inside was destroyed or damaged. The bed mattress had been ripped open at the seams and stuffing thrown everywhere covered the floor like white puffy innards. Even the aluminum bedposts were dented to an extent. Not to mention every toy in the room was nothing but rubble and junk.

"Yes…very angry indeed. Guess I can't blame you. I'd be mad too if someone put me in a strange room alone," he commented.

Striker just tipped his head at him, hissing.

"Well how about we put all your pent up energy to more…useful means? Come on Striker. Let's go." He patted his leg encouragingly.

The little Predator stared at the motion and seemed to recognize it but the mistrust in his eyes was as potent as alcohol. But at last he took a step closer.

"Yeah! Good…good," the General said nicely.

_What did Sherman want? Why did he want him to follow him? Striker couldn't begin to guess but he didn't see any way around it. It was either follow him…or stay cooped up in this godforsaken room. So…he followed…but with great caution. _

_The other Oomans with Sherman followed behind them and walked in front of them, barring any escape. The feeling was nearly claustrophobic to the young Predator. He swore if he had some kind of weapon he'd 'take care' of his uncomfortable feelings. Striker felt naked and vulnerable without his precious weapons. Very rarely did he never carry some kind of dagger or blade on his person and the few times he took them off he made sure they were in grabbing range. His spear and daggers had been at his side from the very beginning of his life and it hurt to not have them. What had they DONE with his weapons?_

The General looked behind him at Dr. Mathis, "So…what is on your scientific agenda today doc?"

"Dr. Wever wants to test his vision capabilities. His corneal and retinal structure is very different so we want to know what he can see. We'll do that in Test Room 4." The man explained.

Soon the party of soldiers and scientists arrived at the Test Room door and as gently as possible Striker was nudged inside. He naturally didn't like that and shrieked his fury but soon quieted down. Meanwhile the people moved to the control room where they could watch and present the alien with stimuli.

Dr. Mathis was at the 'helm' of the control grid. "Are we ready?" Nods of confirmation followed. "Ok. Test #1."

………

_Striker HATED to be forced into strange rooms! This was starting to really piss him off. Suddenly a mechanical noise caught his attention from across the room and he looked. His vision detected unusual mechanical heat patterns inside a small hole in the wall but then it closed and everything returned to the dead blacks and blues of non-life. What was going on?_

…………

The scientists watched Striker look around but he didn't react to the plastic cube that had been placed in the room.

Dr. Wever said, "He heard the door open and knew where the block came from…but he doesn't see it."

"Ok…let's try something different. Test 2" Mathis stated pressing another button.

………

_Another mechanical noise made Striker's head whip around. A different panel opened and a movement drew his eye. Some rounded object, not alive, was bouncing across the floor. Curious, he followed and pounced upon it. Striker held up the object; a ball of some kind. What was this doing in here? Remembering his short-lived game with the Ooman offspring in the jungle, he threw the ball, it bounced off the wall and when it returned he easily caught it with one hand. He repeated the action. It had an…entertaining, yet simple quality._

………

"Hmm. The ball is made from the same material as the cube but he saw it because it moved." Dr. Wever concluded with fascination in her eyes.

Dr. Brody nodded, "He can see movement but not inanimate objects that don't move. Try this…"

………

_Striker caught the ball one last time and then another door opened on the far side of the room. Without warning the lights went out and Striker braced himself for some kind of attack. But, this time…something small and alive raced out of the panel. Dropping the ball instantly Striker's attention was riveted on the small long bodied heat signature, scampering along the room's wall. He didn't need light to see the warm body…it glowed as if on fire. Getting in a low crouch he stalked the little creature, rattling softly. He judged the distance and moved a few feet closer. His mandibles flicked in anticipation as he watched the mammal run along the wall and then veer in his direction. Holding perfectly still the young alien waited…waited…waited until the animal was within striking distance. In a blinding move, Striker seized the warm bodied thing by its head. Though it clawed and shrieked in his grasp it stood no chance. As the lights flickered on, Striker snapped its neck with one quick twist and deftly decapitated his prize, squirting hot blood on the white walls and floor._

………

Some of the humans watching cringed as the lab rat was dealt a quick bloody death. Striker threw the dismembered head of the rodent away and used his sharp little claws to slit open the belly. With the efficiency of a hunter, the Predator cleaned and skinned his prey in less than a couple minutes and then voraciously sank his fangs into the fresh meat.

Dr. Wever wrinkled her nose, "Well…he likes rats."

Taking off his glasses a moment Dr. Brody marveled at Striker's efficiency. "I knew it! He's infrared!"

"You mean he only sees heat and movement?" General Heingrid asked.

The behaviorist nodded, "He's perfectly designed for hunting. He can see his warm bodied prey in any amount of light and he can see movement. This little guy's sight is just like a rattlesnake's. Did you see how quickly he cleaned and skinned that rat? It's second nature to him. I'll conjecture he was born with those skills or was taught at the earliest age…just like any young carnivore."

General Heingrid nodded, "He's a very efficient killer it seems…even at such a young age." Inside the General sighed. He _knew_ Striker would be from his daughter's descriptions and so did his superiors. Though he didn't approve of all their decisions…this one in particular…Sherman knew with time and training, Striker would be exactly what he was born to be…a very efficient hunter and killer.

………………………..

………………

_A month later…_

_Striker sat on the branch of one of the trees in his habitat. In accordance with General Heingrid's orders, Striker's jungle-type habitat was completed ahead of schedule. The place was huge, basically an indoor jungle the size of a football stadium that had its own live trees, plants, a pool of water, a small waterfall, and even rain and sunshine provided by special pumps and a bulletproof plexiglass ceiling nearly 6 inches thick._

_Though he knew he was confined, Striker saw this place as a VAST improvement over the stupid rooms they'd put him in. One day Sherman came and brought him to this jungle place. It was still a prison…but a better prison…one where he could hide and climb and do whatever he wanted. Striker was still subjected to tests everyday but they generally involved activities he rather enjoyed…like killing. Each day some creature was given to him to kill and eat. Sherman and some other female Ooman called Diane Wever also taught him everyday how to speak the Ooman language. He didn't like it very much but he was learning a bit._

_Striker still didn't like the Oomans…but he was beginning to trust this Ooman Elder Sherman…to an extent. Looking up through the tree branches and leaves Striker could see the Earth sun and feel its warmth on his green speckled flesh. He thought of Karin for an instant. **Where was she? Why did she abandon him?**_

_Suddenly, as he sat on the tree branch a horrible shock of pain shot through his legs. Growling he grabbed his legs and flared his mandibles as the pain crept up into his torso. The pain caused the little Predator to double over into a ball and shriek. His back flamed and then his arms and even across his head the pain seared. For an instant Striker thought he would die…he felt like he was being ripped apart from the inside!_

………

_The Habitat Control Center…_

"General! Something is wrong with him," the scientist/soldier observing Striker's vitals barked.

Thanks to a small biochip in his torso, they could observe Striker's internal condition around the clock. Now his heart rate had doubled and his brain was registering vast pain signals from every part of his body.

"What's the matter with him? Is he injured?" the General demanded.

The man observing shook his head, "He's in pain…but look at this!" He pointed to a colorful layout of Striker's inner workings…his bones and muscles were moving…no…not moving…_growing_.

"Sweet mother of GOD!" the General hissed as he rushed out the door.

………

_Striker managed to roll off the tree branch and fall without injuring himself…but the pain was excruciating! Even getting his arm broken or getting torn up by those dogs didn't hurt as much as THIS! Rolling on the leafy ground in pain Striker could hear small internal pops and crackles…like his body was rearranging itself or…tearing itself apart. What was HAPPENING to him? Not even able to stand or see straight, the little Predator crawled as if trying to escape the pain, but it had him firmly in its unforgiving jaws. He shrieked…_

………

General Heingrid, along with two other guards, opened the second to last door of the habitat, rushing inside the divider room, which was basically an area where they could be in close contact with the alien but not have to be in the same room with him; for…security purposes. There were several of these divider rooms all around the habitat and one could view almost any part of the habitat from those points. As luck would have it Striker had collapsed in view of one of the divider rooms. Concerned, the General rushed to the thick Plexiglass wall, seeing Striker curled in a ball and breathing hard on the ground. Beads of moisture had formed over his speckled alien flesh and as his breaths slowed, Striker uncurled his body.

The General's eyes widened in amazement. Striker…was bigger. He didn't know how, but the alien was definitely bigger.

Soon Striker planted his hands into the ground and pushed himself up, standing shakily. General Heingrid looked at Striker…he was taller. Within a month Striker had grown about an inch, which put him just a few inches taller than the General's knees, and now…he was above his waist! He'd grown a foot in just a few minutes!

_Striker lifted his eyes to Sherman and blinked. Was Sherman…shorter? Looking down at himself Striker flared his mandibles a bit in shock. He was TALLER! Could it be…the Fast Growth! On his home world he'd heard of the Fast Growth from his bearer. Just a few young Predators went through the Fast Growth, where they would gain height in mere minutes. The process, as Striker found out, was VERY painful but also very gratifying. Predator youths grew very rapidly anyway but Fast Growths only happened to a select few. Sometimes, being bigger gave Young Bloods an edge in survival and a Fast Growth was well sought after. _

_The young Predator looked at Sherman through the transparent wall again. He came up to the Ooman Elder's middle now instead of being just above his knees. A smirk appeared behind his mandibles. He wondered…if his strength had increased at all. Perhaps he'd have to find out when he didn't feel so tired and sore._

…………

General Heingrid couldn't believe someone could grow so fast! Striker looked more like an 8-10 year old now rather than a 5-6 year old. He'd only been here a month!

"Striker…geez." He managed to say in a low tone.

Striker rattled viewing his taller stature until he at last sat down, seeming very tired. The General shook his head, "Don't blame you one bit. If I grew a foot in a few minutes I'd be tired too."

The young Predator stared at him through the Plexiglass wall and watched as he left…grinning.


	11. Sergeant Carl Ressick

**Striker: Sergeant Carl Ressick**

_A week after Striker's growth…_

"Are you…completely certain we want to go in there?" Dr. Weaver asked the General and Dr. Mathis.

While Dr. Mathis didn't look very certain General Heingrid nodded with certainty, "Yes Ma'am. I make sure to see Striker everyday. He and I have a certain…trust for one another. Everyday I interact with him and we are talking more. He learns words so fast!"

"But…aren't you concerned since he's gotten bigger?" Dr. Weaver asked readjusting the clipboard in her arms.

"Oh…slightly I suppose. But I'm still going. If you don't want to go in that's your choice." The General shrugged as he opened the door to Striker's jungle habitat.

The air was hot and muggy, just the way Striker seemed to like it and transplanted vegetation was everywhere. Neither of the scientists or the General could see Striker. He blended in quite well with his surroundings.

General Heingrid glanced around and called with a hand to the side of his mouth, "Striker!"

They waited. No response or sound of approach.

"Hmm…he usually comes whenever he hears…OOOF!" Quite suddenly the General fell forward on his stomach with Striker standing on his shoulder blades.

The two doctors cried out in shock, backing away quickly until the General started laughing.

"Striker! You sneaky little bastard!"

Seeming pleased with himself, Striker warbled and flexed his mandibles upward in a 'smile' as he jumped off Sherman's back.

"_**You…not ready."**_ He said in a deeper rasping voice.

"No…I wasn't was I. Your words are getting better." The man complimented picking himself up to brush the soil and grass from his uniform.

Striker rattled a bit and pointed to Sherman, _**"Why… here?"**_

"Well…the doctors here want to give you a physical." The tall man explained.

Pulling his head back Striker asked, _**"What?"**_

"They just want to look at you to see how much you've grown and if you've changed any."

A sour look crossed the alien's face, _**"No…phy-si-cal. No like."**_

The General shook his head, "Yeah. I don't like physicals much either. But you need one."

"_**No! Striker hate them."**_ Striker hissed indicating the scientists.

Giving the pair an uncomfortable look the General motioned them back to the exit door. "Well why do you hate them Striker?"

The young alien hissed again_**, "Touch me…no like touch. Poke me…hate poke. Test me…HATE test. Want left alone."**_

Blinking the General sighed, "Do you hate me?"

Striker tipped his head as if thinking about it, _**"You…not bad."**_

Smiling, Sherman laughed, "Well that's good. You're not bad either."

"_**No phy-si-cal."**_ Striker hissed stubbornly looking away.

"What if I get a physical too?" Sherman offered.

"_**NOT care. NO phy-si-cal."**_

Frustrated, the General finally said matter-of-factly, "Well that's too bad you feel that way Striker because I thought after your physical we'd see how well you can fight."

Striker stiffened and returned his gaze upon the General. _**"See me fight?"**_

The tall man nodded, "Yes. Since you've gotten bigger we've wanted to see how well you can fight. Karin told us…"

"_**Karin?"**_ Striker's head perked.

"Yes. She told us a long time ago how well you fought in the jungle. You like to fight don't you?"

Nodding his largish head the Predator youth flexed his mandibles, _**"Like fight!"**_

The General nodded approvingly, "Well…if you'll get your physical real quick then we'll let you fight."

"_WHO Striker fight? What Striker fight? Fight you?"_ Striker asked eagerly.

"You want to fight me?" the General asked incredulously.

Striker nodded enthusiastically.

Laughing at the suggestion General Heingrid waved his hand, "Striker I'm too old for such things."

The young alien seemed disappointed for a moment but then asked, _"Who Striker fight?"_

"A much younger man. So…would you like that?"

"_Yes. Fight good."_ Striker nodded.

Nodding the General held up a finger, "Physical first."

Striker hissed, flaring his mandibles slightly, _"Fight first."_

"Why?" the man asked.

Raising his lightly spiked brow quickly and then slitting his yellow eyes Striker replied, _"No trick Striker."_

"I wouldn't trick you Striker. I mean what I say."

Shaking his head a bit the young Predator replied, _"Ooman trick. Fight first."_

The General opened his mouth to protest but he knew this would get nowhere. Striker had little trust and it couldn't be bought easily. Perhaps giving him this would help strengthen the already shaky foundations of trust he'd begun to lay down with him.

"Alright. You can fight first. BUT you still have to get the physical." The General stated firmly.

_Striker hissed lightly at the thought of it…but the prospect of combat appealed greatly to him. He clicked once and walked toward a special door of the enclosure that led to a special hallway that was designed to contain Striker but also lead him to the special rooms for tests and physicals. It was probably the most secure in the entire world. Opening with a hiss, the Control Center personnel opened the door and Striker entered the hallway slowly. He hated this place. It was more prison-like down this way. But if he was going to get to fight then he was ready. He hadn't been in a real fight in more than a month…and trying to fight the Oomans who used to move him from room to room didn't count. A heat light blinked ahead of him. The Oomans had developed a system that led him to each room using heat lights. It was the only way he could truly see where to go. _

_He approached the indicated door and it slid open, revealing a large spacious room with only a large circular mat on the floor. Striker glanced around, not seeing anyone inside. For a moment he thought he'd been tricked until another door opened on the opposite side of the spacious room and several Oomans entered. All appeared to be of the solider variety. Striker's vision could see fine toned muscle, strong heart rates, and other qualities that identified a healthy specimen. Had he a proper hunting mask he could tell much more about them._

_One male, bare chested and ripped, stepped forward onto the mat and Striker assumed he was the Ooman he would fight. The Ooman was much larger than he was…but size mattered not to the young Predator._

_**In the Control Center…**_

General Heingrid entered the Control Center so he could watch Striker during this combat test. If Striker was everything his daughter had claimed then he would be just the candidate for the higher ups to consider. He didn't tell the young alien this was a test because the very word "test" made Striker bristle and get very defensive. The past month had been somewhat stressing on the Predator youth. Physicals, blood tests, X-Rays, CAT scans, and stimuli tests, to name a few, were the kinds of things Striker endured and he HATED them. The stimuli tests were probably the best for him since they didn't require any sedatives or otherwise to get him to hold still. They simply tested his reactions to certain stimuli just like the vision test before.

This test was to determine if Striker was as good in combat as suggested. If so…his purpose in life would be set. Sighing the General watched the screen.

…………

_In the combat room…_

Sergeant Carl Ressick stood before the young alien creature he'd been briefed about for the past few days. The Sergeant, born in the Western US to a Russian father and American mother, was a tall, powerfully built man with dark hair, olive complection, and striking hazel eyes. His job was a Marine Corps Combat trainer. He was proficient in nearly every form of combat known to man. His preference leaned toward hand to hand though. During his whole service in the Marines he'd trained thousands of troops and very rarely was he bested in a hand-to-hand match. Every hold, every combat maneuver, hit, kick, and position he would hard grain into his men. Sergeant Carl Ressick had been hand picked by the higher ups for a special training mission because he was one of the best and most hard-nosed trainers in the military. At first the Sergeant didn't know what to expect. He assumed he'd be training some new Special Forces sect or maybe some Rangers…but his briefing blew all expectations out of the water!

At first he didn't believe WHAT he was training until he saw Striker in his enclosure. Then…the young Sergeant was filled with eager anticipation. All his life he'd trained men…but now he had a chance to train something never trained before…a real live alien! He had no experience in such things…no one did…but to be a pioneer in this venture snagged Sergeant Carl's interest immediately and he accepted. His mission now was to see what this young alien could do combat-wise and if he was good then he'd train him more.

Upon finally standing before the young alien the Sergeant said in a lightly Russian accented voice, "So…you are Striker?"

The five foot tall alien tipped his largish head and rapped his chest, _"Striker."_

Nodding the Sergeant strode closer to him, "I am Sergeant Carl Ressick. I am to be your trainer."

Striker looked at him noting the man's 6'4 height was somewhat intimidating, _"Resss-ick."_ He hissed the last name.

"You call me Sergeant." The man corrected with a stern voice.

The young alien narrowed his eyes. "_Resss-ick_"

In turn the large man set his jaw, "Insolent little guy aren't you?"

"_You fight Striker?"_ the young Predator asked.

Carl nodded. The moment the man confirmed his question, Striker dropped down into a combat-ready stance, arms wide. He hissed, flaring his mandibles slightly in aggression.

Dropping down as well the Sergeant grinned at the alien's enthusiasm. "Well then Striker…let's see what you've got." He beckoned with his hand, "Come at me Striker."

Knowing a challenge when he saw one, Striker flared his mandibles and 'roared' at his opponent. With a flying leap he came at the Sergeant, intent on landing a kick to his throat. But much to his surprise the Sergeant caught his ankle, swung him around, and threw him across the mat, using his own move against him!

_Rolling to his feet again Striker clicked in admiration. This Ooman knew how to fight well! Hissing a moment, Striker didn't rush in this time. His young training started to ring in his mind. "Once you've determined the skill of your opponent you must compensate. Do not make the same mistake twice…fight with your mind just as much as you fight with your body…the size of your opponent matters not…"_

More careful this time, Striker circled the big man. Then he came at the Sergeant fast. He spun once, driving a solid roundhouse kick into his side. The man grunted at the blow, but soon seized Striker's wrist, twisting it painfully and putting a solid foot down on his clawed foot to keep him from moving. Striker growled in slight discomfort at the hold. The grip of the man was strong and the hold promised a broken bone if turned properly. Reacting quickly, Striker twirled this body with the hold to release the pressure and as a result made the Sergeant's arm twist.

But Carl Ressick was a clever fighter. Using his other hand he gripped the back of Striker's belt with his other hand and bodily slammed him to the mat! Striker's eyes went wide and then he felt his arm behind his back again. He growled in frustration as the Marine trainer pinned him hard with his knee in his lower back. Striker admitted he was outmatched this time but he wouldn't accept full defeat. Flaring his mandibles he hissed angrily until the Sergeant released him, backing away for a moment.

_Striker leaped to his feet again, glaring at the man. He needed to try something different. True…he was stronger than before he grew…but it wasn't enough to match this Ooman. Striker knew, however, with time his strength would develop and when it did no one Ooman would be able to beat him. Still…this was a challenge he liked._

"Had enough Striker?" Carl asked.

"_No. Striker not done."_ He replied.

Nodding amiably the Sergeant lowered himself again, "Then come on!"

Striker rushed toward the Sergeant and this time he dodged a grasp from the larger man by leaning back. Finding himself very close to the man, Striker thrust his head forward and slammed his domed skull into the Sergeant's stomach! Air rushing from his lungs the man tried to recover quickly but suddenly the smaller alien jumped up, grabbed his head and with a 'roar' and flipped him over! Splayed on his back the Sergeant felt Striker's foot at the base of his throat. Reacting quickly, the man grabbed the young Predator's ankle, twisted it, and forcefully brought him to the ground as well. Carl reached around the alien's middle and put him in a full Nelson hold. Striker shriek-growled a moment feeling his back bend and pressure on his arms and shoulder blades. Not knowing what else to do, he jerked his head backward to hit the Sergeant in the face but the man knew that technique and dodged it.

"Submit Striker…" Carl warned.

_Striker was subdued and he knew it. There was no way out of this hold without admitting defeat...or getting his arms broke. He hissed but wouldn't say anything. His childhood training forbids showing weakness and he WOULDN'T!_

Eventually the Sergeant released Striker, pushing him away. Touching his sore stomach the man nodded to him, "Very good Striker."

_The young Predator readied himself but then noticed the man seemed to be done! Done? Already? Neither of them were bleeding…no broken body parts…the fight was done? How could that be? He never admitted defeat._

"Good fight Striker. We'll fight again later, "Carl praised lightly.

Then before the alien knew it the man left with the others, leaving him alone in the room.

_Striker was very confused. How could the fight be over? This wasn't right! He never admitted defeat! Had this Ooman Ressick assumed he'd won? Well…technically he had…but Striker never submitted! This…this was crazy! Striker snarled to himself. Just you wait Ooman Ressick…just you wait._

…………

Later…

General Heingrid saluted back at Sergeant Carl Ressick once he entered the debriefing room, "So…he was good?"

The Sergeant nodded, "Much better than I anticipated Sir."

"How good do you think he'll be in a few years?" he inquired with interest.

Sighing the large man admitted, "Much better than me. He's stronger than he ought to be for a being of his size. I was stronger…but I'd bet in a few years if not sooner he'll be equal to me in strength. In more years…I shudder to think."

General Heingrid nodded, "Yes. Our scientists anticipate he'll be much stronger than any human in a few years…not to mention much bigger. So…you think he's perfect for the job?"

Sergeant Carl nodded assuredly, "In a few years and some training…he'll be the best there ever was."

"That's precisely what my superiors wanted to hear." The General stated.


	12. 10 years later

**Striker: 10 years later**

_10 years later in the Midwest USA…_

Karin stared out the window of her small suburban home, viewing the front lawn and the night sky for no particular reason. Absently she placed a dirty pan from the evening meal into the sink of sudsy water and began to scrub it vigorously.

It had been nearly 7 years since she'd completed her military service. Shortly after her service, her former Commander Mike proposed to her, which she readily accepted after many years of getting to know him. Together they had a little baby girl whom they named Sadie. Sadie looked very much like both her parents but both knew she'd look like Karin when she grew up.

Karin turned from the window and smiled at her green-eyed one and a half-year old. At present Sadie was munching on a few stray Cheerios on her high chair platform while her father watched her to make sure she didn't choke or otherwise. Smiling proudly at his little daughter, Mike nudged a few more Cheerios near her chubby fist, which she promptly scooped up and popped into her mouth. Munching away, Sadie slapped her hands on her tray, making the Cheerios there bounce. She giggled, spitting a little as she did.

Laughing at her daughter's antics Karin said, "You sure do like to play with you're food don'tcha Sadie?"

The green-eyed toddler glanced over at her mother saying, "Dada! Ma…Chee Os!"

Mike grinned, "Yes! Cheerios are good aren't they?"

"Chee Os!" Sadie crowed.

At that moment, the phone rang. Drying her hands promptly, Karin leaned over and snatched up the phone from its base, but oddly, the phone didn't stop ringing. Looking at the phone Karin squinted her eyes in confusion.

Standing up quickly, Mike said, "It's the other phone."

The 'other' phone was the phone Karin's father, the General, used to get in touch with them from wherever he was. It was on a private satellite channel that was invisible and untraceable…very secretive. It hardly EVER rang at all but it wasn't a phone call to ignore. Quickly, Mike dashed into the den to find the hidden phone. Sadie craned her little head around the backrest of her high chair trying to see where her daddy had gone.

"Dada go." she said in her little voice.

"Yes…dada go." Karin smiled, though inside she was concerned. Her father typically called through the regular phone line just to keep in touch, but that was only if he was off duty. He only gave them that other phone for emergencies.

In the den Karin could hear her husband's voice change to the more serious military tone that she was so accustomed to him using.

"Yes Sir? What has happened?...Yeah…yes she's here…but Sir!...Yes…all right. Karin!" he called.

Following his voice Karin met him at the kitchen door and said, "Watch Sadie." Deftly she took the phone and listened.

"Hello? Dad?"

"Karin. Haven't talked to you in awhile dear." He started cordially.

"Yes…yes it has been awhile. Dad why are you using this line? What's happened?"

A heavy sigh hissed in the earpiece, "Karin your country needs you."

Her back straightened, "Dad! I've been out of the service for seven years! Mike and I both have! What's happened? Is there a war?"

"No…not a war. We need your help specifically." He informed.

Karin grimaced in confusion again, "I don't understand. Why me?"

"Karin listen…I know you took the oath along with the rest of your platoon about keeping…HIM …a secret and never to speak of HIM again…but now we need your help with HIM."

The former medic's eyes widened. He meant Striker. It…it had been so long. The only place the little alien resided was in her memory, never to be mentioned again to anyone. Now…it all surfaced again. Frankly, Karin suspected Striker had died long ago…

"What about HIM?" she asked not saying his name aloud.

Her father sighed again, "I cannot say too much now but we need your help. He seemed to have a fondness for you back then…and he sometimes asks about you. I believe you're the only one who can help with HIM."

Karin gasped lightly, "He's alive then."

"Very alive." The General confirmed.

Deep down Karin felt humbled that Striker still asked about her. But…from her father's tone it didn't sound as if Striker was doing so well.

"Well…what's wrong? What's happened to him?" she asked concern filling he voice.

"Oh nothing has happened to HIM…I'll be able to tell you more when you get here."

Karin blinked, "Get there? Dad! I can't leave here! I have a job…responsibilities!"

"You ALSO have a responsibility to this country and our military. PLEASE Karin. We need your help!"

"I can't just up and leave my family without a good reason!" Karin stated sharply.

A long pause came until at last her father said, "You may bring them along too. Sadie and Mike can stay in my quarters while you aide us."

"Is…is that possible?" Karin inquired.

"I'm the man in charge up here. I can make all the arrangements, I just need your word that what you do, see, and everything about this will remain TOP secret and NEVER be repeated to anyone." Her father's voice leaned to authoritative.

Karin sighed, "May I discuss this with my husband first?"

"Very well…I will call back in an hour and you can give me your decision then. But remember Karin…we NEED your help."

Once her father hung up Karin's mind whirled and jerked to keep up with the huge decision she'd just received. Striker was alive…and for some reason the faction that held him all these years needed her help. But what KIND of help? Was he sick? Surely, they wouldn't need her for such a thing. She was only a former field medic and there were surely more qualified medics out there. Was he lonely or unresponsive to them and they needed her to help him in that way since he had a special bond with her so long ago? That could be it. Honestly, Karin hadn't the foggiest idea. But did she really want to do this and drag her family along with her? Would this be dangerous? Should she go or not?

_Four days later in a secret facility…_

Karin held Sadie to her chest as they walked down a long corridor with military escorts on both sides of them. It took some persuading but her husband Mike finally agreed to trip. Of course, they never knew exactly where they had been taken or even how far they'd traveled due to the very secret nature of the facility. In any case, they were in and about to meet with Karin's father General Sherman Heingrid.

After traversing many bare hallways, they finally spotted the General coming toward them arms opened in a friendly greeting.

"Karin, Mike, and my little granddaughter Sadie!" he called.

He reached out and shook Mike's hand heartily, "Good to see you son! I trust you're trip was relatively comfortable?"

Mike's mustache turned up when he smiled lightly, "As good as any trip Sir."

Turning to Karin the General smiled kindly and bent at his waist to get eye to eye with Sadie. His normally gruff voice changed to something more gentle and doting, "Hello Sadie…my my! You're getting to be a big girl! You remember grandpa from Christmas?"

The little girl blinked at him and squeezed his largish nose in a curious hand. "Paw pa." she said.

"Yes! Paw pa!" he smiled, letting her feel his nose.

Karin smiled at her father. Though he rarely saw Sadie, she seemed to take an instant liking to her grandfather during the times they had at Christmas and other stray visits. It also helped that Sadie was a very smart little girl and readily recognized people.

Reaching out the General took his granddaughter in his arms and began walking down the corridor. "Let's show you and your folks to your quarters. Paw pa has some special toys in there for you."

Following him while under escort Karin and Mike traversed the hall closely. After a few moments, they arrived at a spacious living area with a large bedroom for all three of them. As promised, a box of toys lay in front of the sofa.

"Toys!" Sadie crowed, wanting to be let down.

Consenting the General put her down and the little girl toddled over to the box to investigate its contents.

Watching her for a moment the General smiled at her excitement until Karin faced him. The smile diminished slightly into a more serious look.

"I suppose you want your questions answered?" he said in a low tone.

Karin nodded, "Yes. Tell me everything." She looked to Mike for a moment but he read her thoughts.

"I'll watch Sadie while you are briefed."

Dipping her head in thanks Karin followed her father. For a moment, they said nothing.

"Why am I here Dad?" Karin asked.

He sighed as he walked, "We need your help with Striker."

"Why? Why me? What's wrong with him?" Karin demanded.

"He's…becoming difficult to communicate with and therefore he is harder to control. About four months ago, he stopped responding to verbal communications with humans. I haven't heard him speak for a long time." The General explained.

Karin seemed bewildered, "Striker can talk now?"

"Oh yes. He learned our language very fast when he was a young one. Everyday I'd go to visit him and talk with him. However, as I said…he has stopped. He talks very rarely to me now." Her father nodded as he spoke.

"And you think he'll talk to me?" Karin surmised.

"That's what we hope. You seemed to make quite an impression on him all those years ago."

Karin's green eyes filled with suspicion though. "Come on Dad. I know better than that! Something else has happened other than the silent treatment."

General Heingrid stopped, smirking a bit, "Never could fool you could I?"

She shook her head.

"You're right. It's not just the lack of speaking. At first Striker was a very curious little guy, eager to learn, but as he's gotten older things have gotten…dangerous." He stated with great regret in his voice.

"Dangerous?"

He nodded deeply, "To date…he's killed eight of our people and injured dozens more. Some so injured they'll never be the same again."

Karin gasped, "But…why? What have you DONE to him to make him that way?"

The General straightened, hardening his steely eyes, "Before you accuse me of abuse I want to confirm that I never did anything to harm him. He was aggressive to begin with; it's just coming out more potently than before. We anticipated that from what you told us and from what we've observed. The problem is we can't control him and my superiors say if he can't be controlled then he must be terminated. YOU are his last hope."

"They'd kill him simply because they can't control him? Control him in what way?" Karin almost shouted with mortification.

The General pulled her to the side and changed the conversation's turn, "Would you like to see him?"

Karin wanted her question answered but she also wanted to see Striker. It had been ten years since she'd viewed him last and Karin wondered how much he'd changed. She just bet he'd grown. He was probably as tall as she was by now and who knows what else had changed. However, the revelation of his brutal killings made Karin suspect that this wouldn't be the same little alien she'd seen ten years ago.

In no time, father and daughter entered through a technological door and then another until they came face to face with a plate of clear Plexiglas framed in steel beams. Karin gaped in awe at the jungle terrain behind the barrier.

"He lives in there?" Karin asked.

"Yes. He's never lacked for space to run and this jungle habitat is what he likes."

Karin scanned the ferns, trees, and vines for some kind of indication of Striker's presence. She couldn't see anything except vegetation. "So…where is he?"

The General shrugged, "That habitat is like a football stadium, you never can tell where he is. More than likely he knows someone is watching from here."

All at once, a klaxon blared for an instant then a hissing sounded.

"What is that?" Karin asked worried.

"Oh…seems it's dinner time." General Heingrid stated nonchalantly.

At that same moment, the low of a cow sounded and seconds later, a Black Angus walked right in front of the clear barrier glancing about.

"A cow? What is this… Jurassic Park?" Karin almost laughed.

The General smirked at the familiar reference, "Not quite…but he likes them."

"Wait…a WHOLE cow?"

He nodded.

Then, the black steer lifted its head a bit, nostrils flaring slightly. It either heard something or smelled something. Either way, it was spooked. Karin and Sherman watched the trees but could see nothing. The silence reigned until the low of a cow sounded in the trees.

Karin pulled her head back, "There's two cows in there?"

A small smile formed on the General's craggy face, "Nope. Just this one."

"Then what…?"

Curiosity perked by the familiar noise of its kind the steer blinked and mooed back. An exact mimic responded in turn. Slowly the black steer tromped toward the sound, which proved to be a fatal error.

Suddenly without warning, a horrendous bellowing roar that was most definitely not bovine or human rang out through the habitat! In the blink of an eye, a rather large two-legged form dropped down from a tree above and landed directly atop the steer's back! Bellowing in panic, the bovine threw its head, the whites of its terrified eyes rolling. Karin put a hand to her chest, startled by the jump but was unable to rip her gaze away from the scene. Obviously, it was Striker but he was not as Karin remembered him. She still couldn't get a clear look at his face.

The Black Angus kicked its legs wildly, trying to rid itself of the attacker astride its back, but Striker was unshakable. Shrieking, Striker leaped from the steer's back and encircled his brawny, green speckled arms about its thick neck in a chokehold. Tongue lolling the bovine reared up, using all its strength to escape. Much to Karin's utter shock and astonishment Striker snarled, grabbed the beast's nose, and twisted its neck around until it fell to the ground to save its neck. Without pause, the Predator planted a firm foot just under the steer's jawbone and reared both his arms back. With a powerful thrust, he plunged his clawed hands straight through the torso of the bovine, tearing skin, snapping ribs, and ripping muscle. Arms up to his elbows in the steer, Striker's hunched form breathed in remarkably calm breaths as his doomed prey thrashed. Eyes nearly bulging from its skull the black steer gurgled blood in its throat as the alien hunter tore its heart and part of a collapsed lung from its body! Striker rose from his dying victim, holding the grisly quivering heart in his clawed fist. Since his back was turned to the observatory the two onlookers couldn't see his front, nor did he look at them. Voraciously he brought the fresh heart to his face and tore at it with sharp teeth and mandibles. After consuming that he lowered his thick arms, oozing with sticky blood, grabbed the dead steer by the back leg in one hand, and drug the five hundred pound plus carcass into the vegetation away from observing eyes.

Karin was dumbfounded, horrified, and practically nauseous. The redheaded medic couldn't believe that. It was Striker alright, the skin pattern, while darker, was distinctly his. But he was HUGE! Though he didn't come very close, Karin could see he was MUCH bigger than she first assumed he'd be. He had to be taller than her father was and much broader. How in ten years had he gotten so big? When she last saw him he wasn't more than 4 feet tall! He must've gone through an insanely fast growth spurt to achieve such a towering stature. Sadly, she didn't get to see his face or much else of him.

"I'm sorry I didn't warn you. He gets rather excited when fed like this. When he was little we could give him chunks of beef or pork and he was fine. Then he got bigger and bigger and he started demanding fresher sustenance. So for the last six years we've been giving him live prey to hunt. Keeps him happy." The General explained casually. Apparently, he witnessed this quite often.

Karin shook her head, "He's…he's gotten so big! How tall is he now?"

"Pushing seven feet right now and he weighs a little over 250lbs. He's been growing lethally ever since his fourth year here. Then there's his strength…"

"I saw that…he dropped that steer like…like it was a dog or something." She concurred in awe.

The General sighed, "We knew he would be…we just weren't ready for it. Though we haven't tested him lately due to safety reasons, we guess he's seven times stronger than the strongest human. Perhaps more. I've seen him bend solid metal bars like pipe cleaners."

Karin expelled an impressed gush of air, "I…I just can't believe it."

"Along with all that…he's got a VERY aggressive nature. You probably could tell. He enjoys killing more than anything."

At this point Karin was having second thoughts about this reunion and her obvious look caught her father's attention.

"We'll have you try to communicate to him through here, not in there. I used to go in there to talk to him all the time but frankly I don't trust him after…well…I just don't trust him."

Karin was about to ask what he meant but he waved a hand, "He's eating now. You can come back later. Come...I'll show you around."


	13. Meeting

**Striker: Meeting**

_The next day in the observatory station…_

"Alright. Our surveillance tells us he's in this part of the habitat. Just stand here where he can see you." The General commanded.

"What if he doesn't come?" Karin asked worried.

General Heingrid shrugged, "Then we'll try something else. However, Striker has always been very aware if someone is close and watching him. Just keep calm and if you want to leave the observatory, here's the card key. Don't worry. You'll do fine."

Karin sighed, "I hope so."

With an encouraging smile, the General left the observatory station so Karin could be alone with her long-lost friend. Sighing to rid the nervousness from her body, Karin approached the barrier trying to catch a glimpse of Striker. However, she very much doubted she'd be able to master such a feat from what she saw the other day. He blended in well with that environment. Patiently the woman waited for some kind of response.

She waited for well over an hour, her feet beginning to feel over pressured from the prolonged standing still. Finally, she grew tired of standing and opted to sit in the chair provided.

"I don't think he's going to come to you Karin." Her father's voice sounded over the intercom.

Karin sighed but then set her jaw, "I'm not going to leave until he comes."

"You will?" the General asked.

"Yes. This is a battle of wills. I just KNOW he's close by but he doesn't want to come close."

A pause. "Well…alright. Suit yourself. If you get hungry or thirsty I'll have something brought for you."

"I'm going to stay here as long as it takes." Karin stated with stubborn determination.

_Many hours later at night…_

Karin's eyes flew open suddenly.

"**Great Karin…just great for falling asleep."** Karin scolded herself mentally.

The vegetated habitat was dark, only bathed in shallow lights at various points around the perimeter. The top of the enclosure was transparent, allowing sunlight to keep the habitat's trees alive and the entire area warm. All at once a flash from above showed a lightening storm going on outside, briefly illuminating the leaves and trees in eerie electric light. It was followed by the low dull roll of thunder, a chilling sound to some, but soothing for others.

Stretching from her uncomfortable position in the chair the medic yawned, wondering how long she'd been asleep. A chair was not exactly a great thing to nap on for a long period. Karin checked her watch under the dimmed lights of the observatory, 11:00. Two hours of sleep, nearly nine hours of waiting. All day she'd sat and saw no indication of life within the enclosure. If Striker was in there he never showed himself to her. At this point, the woman decided it was time to call it a day and try again in the morning. She stood slowly, bending her back to stretch even more. Just as she was about to turn and leave, a bright flash of white lightening illuminated the enclosure from above and Karin caught a glimpse of a figure standing a few feet from the glass on the outskirts of the trees. Once the lightening flashed and dimmed back to darkness, a pair of glowing yellow eyes flashed. A booming roll of thunder.

Karin caught a gasp in her throat as the luminescent eyes blinked once then disappeared. Then before the woman could react, the dark figure leaped into the dimmed light, just a foot from the clear barrier. She again suppressed a gasp as she looked upon Striker, towering behind the plexi-glass obstruction.

He was definitely as big as her father indicated. Speckles of dark green and a few stray browns dappled his creamy undertones making him seem far more reptilian than human. Karin noted that his body was not only larger, but his infant roundness had stretched out completely and filled up with clearly defined muscle. The funny, snaky protrusions dangling from the back of his jagged skull had grown longer and more flexible as well. Striker's face had changed too. Though still…unappealing…he looked much more developed. His stubby face mandibles had lengthened and now covered his inner jaws better than when he was small. Striker also seemed to be sporting new head spikes, much more defined and vicious looking than his rounded ones of infancy. He was a well developed…adolescent? To Karin he looked full grown already and THEN some.

Their eyes locked for a second. Since he'd grown, Striker's eyes no longer seemed large but well set deep in his skull. More notably, they didn't appear curious or friendly as they had in the past. Something about their primeval yellow shade and tiger-like intensity chilled Karin. He stared at her through the plexi-glass unmoving and silent.

At last, Karin took a small step toward him saying gently, "Striker? Do you remember me?"

His fierce eyes slit and his lower mouthparts flexed, but he said nothing.

Karin smiled to try to appear more open and friendly, "Don't you remember? Karin?"

Very slowly, she approached the barrier, his eyes following her movements but holding stock-still. Once she came within a foot of it, she reached up slowly and put her hand to the smooth, transparent wall. He stared at her more.

Sighing sadly Karin said, "You don't remember me anymore do you?"

The huge alien took one step toward the barrier, his upper left mandible twitching. He stood before the woman, staring down at her, not moving.

"_Karin…"_ he finally hissed.

Instantly, Karin's face glowed with joyous delight at his speaking. He sounded much more confident in the English words, not to mention his voice had deepened considerably.

"Yes! Yes! You do remem-" That's all she got out when suddenly Striker's hand reared back and slammed palm-flat against the heavy transparent barrier just where Karin's face was. Startled the woman jumped back and Striker's fierce yellow eyes flashed at her. Spreading his lower mandibles outward, he growled deeply like a big cat defending its territory.

"Striker?" Karin asked with the concern an owner shows their dog when it snaps at them for the first time.

His eyes narrowed to slits. Abruptly he stood and turned his back to her and said in perfect growling English, _"LEAVE…my sight."_

Visibly hurt Karin felt her throat tighten, "Striker…I…"

All at once, Striker threw his thick arms wide and let loose a thunderous roar that nearly made Karin leap out of her skin. **_"LEAVE MY SIGHT BETRAYER!"_**

That word was enough to make Karin sick to her stomach. All the regrets and guilt of seeing him taken away all those years ago came crashing down atop her. He saw her as his betrayer…Judas…Benedict Arnold. It hurt deep down. However…Karin was not about to leave.

"No. I won't leave Striker." She stated firmly, trying to keep her voice from cracking.

The huge alien's shoulders shook slightly with barely contained rage, but he wouldn't look at her.

Karin ran a hand through her sweat moist hair, "Listen Striker…I never wanted to hurt you."

Striker snorted contemptfully.

"I know you probably blame me for this…but I just want to let you know that I didn't do this to you."

At that, the speckled alien whirled around, swinging his dreadlocks, _"How **DARE** you **LIE** to me!"_

"I'm NOT lying to you! I was not responsible for this!"

Striker stalked up to the glass eyes blazing, _"Then WHY did you bring me to the others? WHY didn't you just LEAVE me in that jungle?"_

Karin set her jaw firmly, "I was under orders to bring you…besides that…I couldn't just leave you out there! You were just an infant."

The muscular alien flared his mandibles, _"I don't need Oomans to survive! The only thing you and your weak race have brought me is dishonor and imprisonment!"_

Moisture glazed over Karin's eyes, "Striker…if I had known what would happen to you I NEVER would have brought you. I…I just couldn't leave you out there. I didn't have a choice."

Striker snarled, _"Do you think I CARE about your pathetic excuses? The very sight of you SICKENS me!"_

Then without a backward glance, Striker turned and disappeared into the darkness of the jungle enclosure leaving Karin haunted by his cold words.

_The next morning in the General's quarters…_

"So…the reuniting didn't go so well hmm?" General Heingrid stated taking a sip of strong coffee.

Rubbing her still sore and tired eyes Karin shook her head. It was obvious from their redness she'd been crying.

The older man sighed scratching his peppered black hair, "I'm…I'm sorry Hon. He's just…changed, I guess."

Karin sniffed a bit, a tad congested from her crying the night before. "He blames me. He blames me for putting him here."

"But you didn't. You know that. Hell, HE knows that."

Her reddened eyes lifted to her father, "What have you done to him to make him this way?"

Putting down his coffee mug purposefully the General sat across the small table from his daughter. "Karin…I promise you that I have done nothing to hurt him."

"You OBVIOUSLY did something to him to make him so bitter!" Karin stated bluntly.

The General flattened his palms against the tabletop, "Karin! We did NOTHING to him. The ONLY reason I can think that he's bitter is the simple fact that he's lived in this facility all his life and isn't allowed to leave. He's aggressive, pure and simple. He doesn't like to be told what to do and he hates to be messed with by humans."

The woman sat back somewhat realizing the truth in her father's voice. It was true, Striker was aggressive, and she'd seen him kill a man when he was but a young one, not to mention three dogs.

"I'm sorry dad…it's just…when he was little there was something else in him. Something that wasn't aggressive and blood thirsty. He was curious and inquisitive." Karin reminisced.

General Heingrid thought a moment then smiled. "Do you remember Rascal?"

Karin's face brightened, "That baby raccoon I kept when I was seven?"

The General's smiled broadened, "Yep. I found that one all alone by the side of the road. I suppose a car hit his mama. Though I thought better of bringing a wild animal home, I couldn't let a baby like him wander around all alone. So I put on some gloves, scooped him up, and tucked him in a blanket. Didn't bite, scratch, or even growl. He just let me pick him up. Oh, I remember your face when you saw him! You fell in love with him. However, I told you he wasn't a pet, he was a wild animal and you should only go near him when I was around. Course…you didn't listen. You named him Rascal and played with him as if he was a cat. Hell, Rascal would even play with our puppy Denny. Rascal got into everything as I recall. He was practically a pet." He paused, giving Karin a look and her lips pursed. She knew how the story ended. "Then one day when he was almost full grown, the wild just came out of him."

Karin remembered all too well what happened. Her memory replayed the tragic scene like a small movie in her mind. She'd gone out to see Rascal and her dog Denny went with her as he always did. It all happened so fast…but all Karin could remember was Rascal leaping onto Denny's head and Denny snarling and snapping to get him off. A blur of fur and a flurry of grass, dirt, and blood. Then…Rascal ran off, leaving Denny with only one eye and a mauled nose. Karin never saw Rascal again. Denny had done nothing to provoke Rascal. In fact the pup and the raccoon had grown up together, played together, ate together…and sometimes even slept in the same doghouse. Rascal just turned on him.

General Heingrid put a hand over his daughter's, "You were just lucky it wasn't _you_ he turned on."

Her bottom lip flicked in thought, "I know dad…I know."

"I'm just saying a creature or being may be innocent as young but when they grow up things change."

"But Striker isn't a wild animal dad! He's sentient! He's highly intelligent! He isn't a dolphin in a tank or a raccoon in our backyard he's like us. People go crazy when confined for so long. Don't you think the same applies to him?" she protested.

He nodded, "Yes Karin. I know that. But we CANNOT allow him access to the outside world unless we know for certain he won't…turn."

At that, Karin leaned forward, "What do you mean? You mean…you've actually considered turning him loose?"

General Heingrid leaned in his chair putting the membrane of his thumb to his lips. "I'm sorry Karin. It's classified."

Frustrated, Karin crossed her arms, "Classified."

"I CAN tell you this Karin. If he can't be managed then either he will remain here for the rest of his days…or he will be terminated."

"Why dad? What do they want him for? Why is it SO important that he be controlled?" she demanded.

"I'm not obligated to say Karin. You were his last hope though."

Still no closer to a real answer Karin shook her head, "Can I give it another shot?"

"You want to try again?"

She stood, "Since it's up to me I don't see any other choice. I'm NOT going to give up on him. Not yet."

"He's stubborn as Hell Karin. I doubt you'll make any headway with him…but…if you're willing to try we'll give it more time. At least until my superiors tell me otherwise."

Karin nodded. She'd get through to Striker…one way or another.


	14. A Battle of Wills

**Striker: A Battle of Wills**

_Not long after that…_

Upon entering the observatory once again, Karin promptly sat in the chair, directing her eyes into the habitat. She knew instantly that this would be a test of both their wills, probably more hers than Striker's would since he didn't have to come to the observatory area. However, this didn't deter her. For some unexplainable reason, Karin wanted to get through to the aggressive alien, show him she hadn't given up on him. All she wished was to help him and perhaps even get through to him. After all, he _had_ talked to her. Maybe in time she could rebuild his trust for her.

For hours, she waited, unmoving. Then finally, she spotted a rustling in the trees above near the barrier and quite abruptly, Striker leaped down, landing solidly on his feet, one clawed hand out in front of him. His yellowed eyes narrowed at her and his lower mandibles flared outward as he rose slowly. Taking a step toward the barrier, his every move screamed challenging intimidation. Karin didn't give in. Narrowing her own blue eyes, the former medic leaned forward to stare intently.

Striker tipped his head a bit meeting her hard gaze with an equally burning glare.

"_I thought I told you to leave my sight."_ He hissed menacingly.

"I did. Now I'm back." Karin replied.

He swung his shoulder slightly as he stepped, _"When I said leave my sight…I meant **forever**."_

"I guess I don't listen very well."

Striker's eyes widened just a bit but returned to slits. _"Go away."_

The redhead crossed her legs and stated determinedly, "No."

In an instant, Striker was inches from the barrier, snarling nastily at her, fogging the glass-like surface and tapping it harshly with his raking mandible tusks. His prominent, spiked brow shadowed his eyes further, giving him an even more menacing appearance. Though she jumped, Karin tried to suppress any feelings of fear.

"**_LEAVE MY SIGHT!"_** Striker roared slamming a fist into the barrier. Luckily, it was unbreakable.

"NO!" Karin nearly shouted, leaping to her feet and clenching her fists.

Enraged, Striker hit the barrier repeatedly, making the entire metal frame vibrate. At last he stopped, seething as he flashed his cat-like eyes. The Predator clenched his fists and let loose a thunderous shrieking roar of raw fury. With a final snarl, he stalked away out of Karin's sight. Again.

_Two days pass…_

_Sitting alone in his favorite tree of the habitat, Striker stewed, his jaws clenched. Karin…she was here. Why? It had been so long since he'd seen her but upon viewing the woman of his past an inconceivable rage overwhelmed him. All that filled his eyes and mind was betrayal, rage, and mistrust. For three days straight, she'd come to that "safe room" and sit. He didn't know why but he always came there to observe the observer. He didn't have to. In fact, he always debated ignoring her. However…he found his curiosity and bitterness fueled his actions. Why was she here? It made no sense to the young warrior why she'd all of a sudden appeared in this god-forsaken place after so long._

_He thought about this. Why? Why now? He'd stopped talking…yes...the Ooman scientists knew of his past attachment to her and thought she'd be useful to their research of him. But why? That made no sense. What could they possibly learn from him that they already didn't know? Didn't they know almost everything about him yet? He dug his claws into the tree bark, gouging deep scars into it to add to the ones he'd made long ago. This was so frustrating! These Oomans were plotting something; he could feel it in his guts. And whatever this plot was, Karin was the key to it._

…………………

Mike stroked a hand through Karin's red hair as she sat on the bed in their quarters, "Still no improvement?"

She shook her head dismally, "Everyday I sit and every day he rejects me. I just don't know if this is going to work."

Lightly her husband leaned in and kissed the back of her head, "I know you Karin…you won't give up."

"I don't think Striker will give up either. I've just been thinking…how long will this take? Sure, it's been four days but how long can I continue doing this with you and Sadie to worry about? A few days won't matter but what if this takes weeks or months?"

Mike blew some air from beneath his dark mustache, "You believe it will take that long?"

She shrugged, "It could. I don't want to put our daughter through this and I don't want to be away from her so much. I'm her mother…"

"If I know the higher ups Karin, they won't wait that long. They're all about results and progress…instantly." Mike assured.

Karin faced her husband, "That's also a problem Mike. I know…you don't understand really, but Striker means something to me."

"In what way? You only knew him for a few days." He asked skeptically.

She sighed, "Well…it's hard to explain. He…he left an impression on me and I feel like I betrayed him. For those few days, I was his friend and mother figure…as weird as it sounds. If I give up on him or can't get through then I'll never forgive myself for getting him here. I…I'm just so frustrated and confused."

Mike pulled his wife to his chest, putting his chin on her shoulder, "You just want to know if you're doing the right thing. Karin…you simply followed your orders…and your heart. Remember how concerned you were for him out there? You wouldn't let him out of your sight and I watched you with him. It…it reminded me of how you are with Sadie now. Kind, compassionate, and consoling. You wouldn't have left him out there in that jungle even if you never got those orders."

"But he wanted me to. That's what he said."

After a moment, he put her at arm's length and directed his eyes into hers, "Whatever you decide I will support. You just do what you feel is right in your heart."

"Thank you Mike." She wiped her eyes a bit and rose, "Guess I'd better get down there and try again."

He kissed her lips quickly, "Good luck."

_Minutes later…_

Almost dreading the wait and inevitable rejection, Karin paused before sliding her card in the restricted access lock. Hissing, the door slid open to the observatory and Karin strode in. This time Karin was surprised to see Striker standing near the barrier…waiting for her. Stunned the woman stopped in mid-stride.

Quietly, the redheaded woman approached him, "Striker?"

"_Why do you keep tormenting me?"_ he growled.

"I was about to ask you the same question." Karin replied curtly.

He clicked harshly, _"I knew Oomans were slow learners…but I didn't realize HOW slow."_

There was a brief silence and Karin decided to change the subject and commented, "Your English is very good. You learned a lot since you were young."

Striker flexed his claws at his side and averted his eyes.

"Did the General teach you how to speak?"

The alien rasped in his throat with annoyance, "_Why do you keep coming here?"_

Karin tried to smile friendly like, "I just wanted to talk to you."

Snarling, Striker swung a fist and hit the barrier, **_"WHY?"_**

Her blue eyes went hard, and abruptly she put herself very close to the barrier shouting, "Because I care! I care about what happens to you!"

Striker's eyes widened and flashed with a light. **_"Care! Why should you care about me! Stop pandering me with you pathetic Ooman emotions!"_**

Angered and saddened at the same time, Karin slapped her palm to the barrier, "Because back then you needed me and I wanted to help you! I STILL want to help you."

Shoulders rising with seething growls, Striker shrieked and flared his claws, **_"I should've killed you when I had the chance! It would've been EASY…just ram a blade right through your throat while you slept!"_**

Almost physically struck by such a heinous remark, Karin bared her teeth, "How _DARE_ you! How DARE you say such a horrible LIE to me!" she shouted angrily.

The tall alien hissed, _"What makes you think I'm lying?"_

"You weren't like that."

For a moment Striker stared at her, mandibles flicking intermitted. Then one side of his spiked brow arched a bit. He seemed as though he knew something.

"_That…is how you'd **like** me to be isn't it?"_ he hissed.

Karin blinked, "Like what?"

"_You want me to be as you remember me back in that jungle."_ For an instant Karin's jaw dropped a bit until Striker raised his upper mandibles, flashing his teeth, _"How foolish you are Karin…thinking time wouldn't change me! The young one you found in that jungle is gone. Any, feelings, you had for that little one should cease because there is only **me** now." _He hit his chest solidly_, "THIS is what I was born to be! And if YOU think you can change that then you don't stand a chance!"_

The former medic was dumbstruck for a moment. He'd hit her deep. Somehow, he knew. She lowered her head, almost guilty. "I didn't want to change you Striker."

He growled.

Karin's intense blue eyes met his yellow ones, "I just want to help you"

For the first time Striker's expression changed to one of interest rather than aggression or contempt, _"Help me?"_

She nodded solemnly. Striker rattled a moment and slit his eyes, _"You want to help me?"_

Again, she nodded. The alien scraped a claw against the barrier and hissed, _"Then use that little card in your hand and release me."_

Karin momentarily glanced at the card key, "I…I can't do that."

Striker's mandibles lifted a bit in a sort of alien smirk, _"No…you **can't** do that can you? Sherman and the others learned their lesson the last time I got out."_

"You…got out?" Karin asked incredulously.

The Predator lowered his head, a sinister 'smile' lighting his features.

Karin blinked. Her father never actually told her that Striker got out. He did mention several injuries and deaths but not Striker escaping. "How? When?"

Tapping the glass casually with his claws Striker seemed to have a smug, pleased look on his face, _"When I was young I knew I couldn't defeat Oomans with my limited strength and no weapons. Then, over time, they got careless."_ He rattled softly as if fondly remembering, _"Sherman kept sending me into this room to fight this Ooman, Sergeant Carl Ressick. I wasn't strong enough to beat him and everyday he'd defeat me in hand-to-hand combat. That is…until I grew bigger."_

A somber look filled Karin's eyes, "You hurt him didn't you?"

Striker looked at her tipping his head. Then he began chattering very rapidly which quickly morphed into a creepy mimic of a human laugh, though it more resembled a pulsing growl.

Finally he said, _"I doubt he felt much…after the first couple of blows."_

Karin felt sick in the guts for she knew he'd killed the man, "What did you do?"

The alien's fierce eyes wandered from side to side as if indicating something, _"Why don't you ask Sherman? He saw what I did…they all did."_ He raised his voice a bit, _"Isn't that **RIGHT** Sherman? You **SAW** what I did to Ressick and the rest of those Oomans!"_

A confused look entered Karin's eyes and Striker seemed to notice that, _"They watch me, listen to me. Every day, every moment. Always monitoring me. Always testing me. Isn't that **RIGHT **Sherman? **THAT'S** why **SHE** is here! This is all some test…"_

"It's not a test!" Karin protested.

Striker tapped the glass in a testy manner, _"Oh, really? I kill some Oomans and then stop responding to their little tests and interactions. So they just bring **YOU** here for **NO** reason. How stupid do you **THINK** I am?"_

"I don't think you're stupid, quite the contrary. I think you're far more intelligent than you let on."

The Predator rattled, _"They may cage me like a lesser creature, but that doesn't mean I am."_

Karin paused and finally asked, "Striker, do they mistreat you here?"

"_What do you care?"_ he hissed.

"I told you, I _**care** _about what happens to you. Do they ever hurt you?" she demanded.

Striker flicked his upper mandibles and rattled a bit, _"No. **I** hurt **them**. Tell me Karin…why would Oomans keep me alive if all I do is hurt and kill them?"_

The redhead thought a moment, not sure where he was getting this idea. "You are a new species to humans. I suppose they want to know all about you."

Rolling his fierce eyes he grunted,_ "Then Oomans **must** be slow learners. If they don't understand me as a species by now I don't think they ever will. Why should they keep me alive? I always thought Oomans killed ANYTHING that posed a threat to their lives."_

"As a species, yes, I'd say humans do kill things that pose a threat to their existence. I don't know then, why."

Eyes darkening, Striker paced the barrier, _"Do **NOT** tell me you don't know why! **YOU** are part of this whole thing Karin! Tell me, what do you Oomans **WANT** with me?"_

Gritting her teeth Karin wondered that exact same thing, "I don't know why Striker, I was never told."

With a nasty snarl, Striker turned his back on her, pacing a bit faster. That's when the hands free communicator beeped in Karin's pocket. Striker's head perked slightly at the high-pitched sound but he refused to look at Karin. She reached into her pocket and put the hands-free set on her head. Her father had given it to her before all this began as a means of keeping in touch.

"Yes?"

The General's voice came through, "Karin. I'd like to see you in my quarters. We have some matters to discuss."

"Can't it wait?" she inquired.

"I'd prefer you come now. Besides, Sadie keeps asking for you," he stated.

Karin could hear her daughter's fussy cries in the background, which confirmed his statement. Drawn by the motherly urge more than her duty, Karin turned off the device. "I have to go now Striker. I'll come back later to see you. I can tell we have a lot more to talk about."

Striker's large spiked head turned slightly, but he didn't look at her. Just as Karin was about to exit he growled deeply, _"Who is Sadie?"_

The former medic looked back at him shocked, but soon left without a word. A dark 'smile' crossed Striker's features as she left.

……..

_Later in the General's quarters…_

Upon entering the room Karin's little daughter toddled over to her from across the room, whimpering a bit. Smiling, the woman picked up her daughter and cuddled her to cease her distress. From the other side of the room her father came, a small smile on his face.

"She loves her Paw Pa but she gets ancy for her mother pretty quickly," he commented.

"Yes…she does. Where is Mike?"

"He's sleeping. Needed a break." Sherman explained pointing to the bedroom door.

Nodding, Karin patted her daughter's red hair gently as she sucked her thumb. "So what is it dad? What couldn't wait?"

Sitting on the black leather couch the General patted the cushion next to him and his daughter sat, rocking her daughter gently. "You seem to be making some progress with Striker."

Karin held Sadie tighter, "I don't share your optimism dad. He hates me."

"No. I don't think he hates you Karin. He might act that way but he's TALKING to you and that means something. He has talked to you more today than he has talked in months. If he hated you he wouldn't even acknowledge you, like he doesn't acknowledge our scientists," the pepper-haired man explained.

That notion made Karin feel a tad better, but not much. She directed her eyes at her father, "Why _IS_ he here dad? He doesn't know and neither do I."

"That's why I called you here. My superiors think it's time to tell him why. He's obviously curious about it and they think telling him will maybe change our current situation."

"How so?" she inquired.

Standing, the General straightened the bottom of his shirt, "When Mike wakes up we'll both go down there and I'll tell him."

For a moment, Karin glanced at her daughter and said quietly, "Striker asked about Sadie."

The General stiffened slightly, "How does he know about her?"

"That's what I can't figure out! Just before I left he asked who Sadie was." Karin remembered.

At once, Sherman cursed under his breath saying in a rasping voice, "Damn him and his hearing! Why did I say her name? Dammit Sherman, **_dammit_**!"

"You're saying he actually HEARD you on the communicator?" Karin asked in disbelief.

"Yes. His hearing is excellent and that observation room isn't sound proof. How could I be so stupid?" he crossed his arms angrily.

Karin held her daughter firmly, "Why? What does it matter?"

Waving his hand dismissively the General shook his head, "I guess it doesn't matter. He doesn't know who she is. I just get concerned when he shows interest in humans."

"Why?"

He looked at her and sighed, "Because…the last time he asked about a human he killed him."

"Sergeant Ressick?" the woman guessed, remembering Striker's words.

"How do you know about him?"

Karin sighed, "Striker mentioned him. He implied that he killed him. He also said YOU could tell me what happened that day."

"I didn't want to scare you," the General admitted, sitting again.

"What happened?" she demanded seriously.

The General sighed and slowly began, "We wanted to determine just how skilled Striker was in matters of combat and agility, so we brought our best combat trainer Sergeant Carl Ressick to our facility to conduct the training/testing. Striker couldn't beat him for the longest time because he wasn't strong enough or experienced enough. But, he seemed to enjoy the exercise and as he got older he began to ask about the man when I'd come to visit him."

"Like what?" Karin asked, curious.

He shrugged, "Nothing important. Mostly he'd ask when he'd get to fight him again. From his eagerness, I just guessed he enjoyed the stimulation. As the weeks and months passed, Striker got better at fighting and he was also getting bigger. He was about the same size as the Sergeant but the man somehow managed to beat him. We…" he paused.

"Go on," The redhead prompted.

After a moment the General continued, making it obvious this was hard for him to repeat, "We didn't realize he'd been holding back. He was much stronger than he let on and we didn't realize it until it was too late. I was in the Control Center, watching the spar as I always did from a monitor. Striker went down once from a throw…just once. The Sergeant came at him to pin him and that's when all Hell broke loose. Striker grabbed his arm in one hand and broke it before anyone realized what was happening. Then, he punched him, nearly breaking his lower jaw off. I've…I've never seen anyone take a hit like that in my life. The Sergeant fell on his back, bleeding all over the mat until Striker grabbed his throat, hauled him up, and impaled him with his arm."

Karin's blue eyes went wide in horror, "Oh my God."

"I tried to call in the guards to sedate him but Striker was too fast for them. He killed all six of them before they had a chance to tranquilize him and he slipped out there door into the corridor. I ordered an immediate shut down of all the passages. It eventually trapped him and we sedated him, but not before he killed two more of my men and wounded a dozen more. The damage…the damage he inflicted on them was unreal. Most of them had their backs broke. To this day, I blame myself for that incident. I should have seen it coming." The General's grayish eyes moistened. "He faked his skills. He made us think he wasn't that strong or skilled in fighting. I think he planned it that way."

Sobered by the hideous story, Karin didn't know what to say.

"From that day on we improved our security and made sure he didn't leave that enclosure again."

"So…what do our superiors want with him?" Karin asked again.

"I'll tell you down there when I tell him," he assured. "But…I can tell you I don't like it…but he _might._"


	15. A Proposition

**Striker: A Proposition**

_Later on that day…_

Both father and daughter entered the observatory, Karin curious, the General anxious. Behind the barrier was Striker, holding an arm-thick branch in one hand, twirling it like a fighting stick, and jabbing it in the air. For a moment they watched his air fight, impressed with his agile movements. At last, he spun the stick over his head and placed it across the back of his neck and upper shoulders, resting his wrists over the top of it.

"_So…you came back."_ He growled without looking at either of them.

The General looked at Karin indicating she respond, "Yes. You thought otherwise?"

"_I didn't think you'd come back."_

"You waited for me." Karin observed. "A lot of faith on your part for not thinking I'd come back."

Striker snorted, keeping his broad back turned to them.

"Karin is a woman of her word Striker," the General mentioned.

The alien went stiff at the sound of the man's voice. With a very quick jerk of his wrists, Striker snapped the thick branch against the back of his neck.

"_Sherman,"_ he growled. Slowly he turned to view the man. _"Why are YOU here Sherman? Come to torment me along with Karin?"_

"Since when do I torment you Striker?" the man inquired.

"_You exist don't you?"_ he quipped back.

Nodding the older man crossed his arms, "Always had a bit of an attitude haven't ya Striker? I'm surprised you've decided to talk to me. You haven't said much to me these past months."

Striker snorted and looked at Karin, _"What does he want Karin?"_

"He wants to tell you something very important." She answered.

"_Sherman ALWAYS thinks what he has to tell me is important. Learning your human language was important. Doing all your tests without complaint was important,"_ a dark look entered his features, _"…seeing how well I FOUGHT was important. But we BOTH know how THAT turned out don't we Sherman?"_

The General crossed his arms, "Ever since that day you've been pretty proud of yourself haven't you?"

Stepping close to the barrier, Striker scraped a claw across Sherman's eye-line, _"First real enjoyment I'd had since my childhood."_

"Enjoyment?" Karin asked with a bit of disbelief.

Striker smirked behind his mandibles, _"Yes. I enjoyed it Karin."_

Shifting his feet the General cleared his throat, "Then, you might want to hear what I have to say."

The alien rolled his fierce eyes, _"I've been listening to your words for years Sherman."_

"Well what would you say if I told you my superiors are wanting to give you a very important job?"

For an instant, Striker just stared at the man. Then he began laughing deeply, clicking as he did. _"A job?"_

Sherman nodded.

Striker chattered faster, tapping the barrier, _"Me? A job? What do they want me to do? Break people's backs? Rip their skulls out through their mouths?"_

Sighing Sherman nodded again, "Actually, yes."

That's when Striker stopped laughing and straightened his body. His eyes narrowed at Sherman, **_"Yes?"_**

Karin was equally shocked, but said nothing.

"My superiors believe you would make a perfect Special Operations Assassin." Sherman explained.

Striker's eye ridge cocked suspiciously, _"Then I'd say…why do Oomans need **me** to do their killing for them?"_

"You're very good at what you do Striker. I've seen it. Karin saw it when you were just an infant. My superiors believe you would be perfect for the job…they've believed it since the beginning," he explained.

The alien hunter squinted as if thinking, _"So, your superiors don't want to get blood on their hands…is that it?"_

"Something like that. Plus, they want to utilize your unique talents, give you a purpose other than living in this place." Sherman stated.

For a moment, Striker paced the barrier seeming to think more. A dark smile crossed his features, _"You Oomans are getting soft Sherman. You can't even commit to your most basic nature of killing each other. What's the matter Sherman? You Oomans queasy at the sight of your own blood?"_

The General smacked his lips, "So would you do it?"

Crossing his muscled arms Striker eyed the man very suspiciously, _"I would…but you Oomans always say words that mean something else. You make deals, but they have hidden hooks in them. What hooks does THIS shining deal have?"_

"Smart bastard aren't ya? The catch is Striker, you have to kill ONLY who we tell you to and you must do what we tell you." Sherman explained bluntly.

The alien lowered his arms, _"**You** go straight to Hell."_

Setting his jaw the man tightened his fists a bit, "That's _exactly_ why I think my superiors are making a mistake."

"_And why would you say that Sherman?"_ Striker inquired knowingly.

"I trust you as far as I can throw you Striker. If we let you out of this place I know exactly what you'll do."

The alien narrowed his eyes, 'smirking', _"Enlighten me."_

Sighing, the General steeled his grayish eyes, "We'll let you out to kill some people for us and you'll take it too far. You won't have any control or regrets killing any and all humans whom you see. Men, women, children, the old…"

At once, Striker's yellowed eyes flashed and he raised his shoulders imposingly. A deep menacing growl bubbled from his chest until he slammed a fist into the barrier, **_"HOW DARE YOU INSULT MY HONOR!"_**

"I don't recall you showing much _honor _when you killed my men Striker," Sherman hissed through clenched teeth.

Flaring his mandibles to their widest extent Striker roared at the man, cursing in what sounded like his alien language. He seethed through his sharp teeth, glaring venomously at the General, _"**YOU **are a DEAD MAN Sherman! NO ONE insults my honor!"_

"THAT is why I don't trust you Striker. Your temper is uncontrollable and a simple sentence can send you into a rage. You've always been like that I don't think you can change. So YOU can just sit in there and rot for the rest of your days!" Sherman shouted back in his graveled leader voice.

Karin started to protest her father's coldness, "General…" But his flinty eyes met hers, narrowing to render her silent.

By this time Striker was positively livid with rage, so much his eyes burned like yellow flames. Karin was staring in shock at her father's coldness but soon noticed the familiar glint in his eyes he got when he knew something his opponent didn't.

Sherman turned his face away and then twisted his gaze back to the alien as if on a second thought, "How long do you think you'll live anyway Striker?"

Striker's eyes widened at him.

"I'm no scientist, but considering you're only about seventeen or eighteen right now I'd bet you've at least got ninety years in there."

An almost horrified look entered the fierce alien eyes.

……

_Sherman was right. Striker knew he'd live a long life in the enclosure. There was nothing in this place to kill him and the Oomans would keep him well fed and comfortable. Yes…he'd live long indeed…much longer than Sherman guessed he would. But his life would be meaningless. He had no honor. He'd never fulfilled a single honorable ritual nor achieved any notable status that would denote respect in his young life. Striker couldn't remember the rituals he **should have** partaken in had he been on his home world, but he **knew** he would have gone on his first Ooman hunt by now. **Here**… on this god-forsaken planet. _

_Striker clenched his jaw tightly, grinding his sharp teeth with utter frustration. He couldn't even kill himself. To do so would mean he would die without honor and his warrior soul would burn in the place of eternal honorless damnation. These cursed Oomans had him between two blades and both would cut him deeply. It was either his warrior respect or his warrior soul._

……

Striker flared his upper mandibles, clenched his inner jaw, and averted his eyes before saying in a guttural tone, _"I…will kill for you."_

A surprised look met between the two humans. Karin licked her lips, "What?"

The alien opened his eyes, drilling them straight into Karin and Sherman both, _"I will do it. I'll take your offer."_

Sherman nodded, "That was quick."

Striker hissed and turned his back to the man. _"I'm done with you Sherman. Crawl back to your superiors like the cur you are."_

The General nodded curtly, "Very well then. We'll begin your training as soon as possible."

Again the alien glanced at him in disbelief, _"Training? How incapable do you think I am?"_

"Oh, I KNOW you're capable of killing Striker, but we must ensure you're ready to be unleashed." The man explained.

Jabbing a claw at the man, Striker growled deeply_, "I'll show YOU Sherman. You'll SEE what kind of killer I can be. What you saw before was just a taste of what I can do. I'll be the best assassin you pathetic Oomans have ever seen!"_

Then, without another word the young Predator teen disappeared into the foliage of his enclosure. The General nodded almost approvingly with a small smile on his face as he turned for the door.

Karin, who'd kept silent during the entire exchange, followed after him saying indignantly, "What did you _do_?"

"Just humoring him." He stated.

"Humoring him? How was THAT humoring him?" Karin asked incredulously.

The General smirked as they left the observatory and started down the corridor, "He's confrontational. Striker can't converse with me without getting argumentative and belligerent. It's just how he operates. Courtesy isn't in his vocabulary so I don't fight it; I use it to my advantage."

Karin slowly nodded in understanding but still didn't like what had just transpired, "Now…he's just going to be our superior's hired assassin? How can they make such a brash decision like that? Don't they understand that this isn't a deal for Striker, it's servitude! If he'd refused he would have been destroyed like an unwanted dog! That was NO choice."

Stopping in his path, Sherman took his daughter's shoulder in one hand, "Don't you think I KNOW that Karin? Don't you think I've tried to talk my superiors out of this? I meant what I said back there, I don't trust Striker. Something is going to go wrong, I can feel it." He looked away from her, "I'm afraid either way, Striker is not coming out of this alive."

"What do you mean?" Karin asked, horrified.

"If he'd refused the offer my orders were to have him destroyed. Since he accepted he's obligated to follow our orders on these assassin missions. The moment he goes out there and breaks our rules, my orders are the same. It's a no win situation for him." The General admitted rubbing the bridge of his nose and the corners of his eyes.

"And if he doesn't break the rules?"

General Sherman scoffed, "You can't honestly believe he'll obey Karin. That's not Striker. He won't be told what to do by _any_ human."

A somber look filled the former medic's misting blue eyes, "It's not fair! This whole plan is just…wrong!"

"I know it is. But it's out of our hands now. Everything from now on depends on Striker himself." He commented continuing down the hall.

………………

I'm **so** sorry I took so long to get this chapter out…my new job and college are taking up lots of my free time so I haven't been able to come up with very good ideas and I haven't been able to sit and write for awhile :S I hope my readers can understand and be patient with future chapters.


	16. Unexpected Tragedy

**Striker: Tragedy**

_Much later in General Sherman's Office…_

Karin sat heavily in the guest chair of her father's office, nearly emotionally drained from the revelation of Striker's dilemma.

"Isn't there anything you can do dad? I mean you're an influential voice in high places, can't you do anything for Striker?" she inquired after a moment's silence.

Frustrated the General raised his voice a bit, "**_No_** Karin! I've voiced my concerns; I've discussed the risks and fought to change my superiors' minds. They've brick walled my every effort! Their decision stands! End of discussion!"

Equally perturbed Karin laced her fingers, resting her arms along the top of her thighs. "I just want to help him out of this. But I don't know how." She closed her eyes, "This is all my fault."

Taking his fatherly role Sherman got up, walked around his desk, and placed a reassuring hand on his daughter's shoulder, "Don't say things like that Karin. It…"

She interrupted him, "I need to talk to him again."

"You'll probably have to wait until tomorrow morning for him to simmer down. I kind of got him riled up."

The woman's blue eyes met her father's steely ones, "I mean I need to talk to him…face to face."

Sherman's expression twisted to horror, "Absolutely **NOT**!"

"And why shouldn't I?"

"I could name at least ten reasons Karin! Number one being he'd kill you!" he shouted. Getting on one knee next to her Sherman grabbed his daughter's shoulders, "How can you NOT think he wouldn't kill you? Every part of him just wanted to bust through that barrier and rip us apart!"

Karin pursed her lips, "He obviously doesn't trust us. If I put myself in there with him willingly that will be a gesture of trust on our part. You said yourself that he doesn't hate me."

"What does that matter? If he doesn't kill you outright then he'll just use you as a pawn to escape. I'm NOT going to put you in there and risk your life just to show a gesture of trust. It's suicide Karin and we BOTH know it," the General said sternly.

Taking her father's arms, Karin curtly removed them from her shoulders, "And _I_ am a grown woman who can make her own decisions! Besides, how are you going to know how he'll react to an innocent bystander when you send him out?"

Cursing, General Heingrid was silent as he paced the room. After awhile he sat down, "Get some sleep Karin. I'll consider your request for tomorrow's training but for now, just let me think about this."

………………

_**In the enclosure…**_

_Striker sat astride one of his favorite tree branches staring at nothing, only thinking. The young Predator's mind hissed with thought and thrummed with bubbling anger. How could one little mistake made when he was but an offspring put him into so much trouble? Never in his wildest imagination did he envision himself imprisoned by Oomans for the better part of his childhood. He should be on his home world training with other Young Bloods in the ways of his kind. By now, he imagined, he'd have probably established his own premature rank amongst the other Young Bloods of the clan and maybe even killed his first opponent for that rank. _

_His upper mandible tusks scratched together as he sighed deeply, for he realized he had no rank, he had no honor, and he had no trophies. By his own kind's standards he was nothing. In truth, he didn't even have a name; just some bastardized Ooman identification. When he was given the name by Karin as a child it seemed an exciting idea since he didn't have a true name at the time. But now, he came to realize it bore no meaning. He never earned the name as he would have on his home world. His Sire or his mother would've given him a name after he'd proven himself worthy through ritual and combat. Very slowly he gouged his claws into the tree branch as he'd done so many times before when agitated. He didn't even have that! He was nameless! Nothing! The Oomans saw him as nothing! How pitiful was he? They saw him as a mere creature to exploit and overcome. Sickened frustration held Striker's mind in a vice grip as the revelation bore down upon him. _

_Striker stared down from the perilous height of his branch. He couldn't even take his own life or he would remain as nothing. His death even had no meaning! Slowly he tilted his head back letting a deep growling moan escape his chest. This was pointless! All of it! Even if he killed for the Oomans the killing would be tainted because it wasn't for his honor…it was for the Ooman superiors. Obeying their will would demean everything he stood for. _

_How he longed to escape the enclosure and leave it all behind! He'd almost achieved that once, but the Ooman's counter measures and his lack of equipment thwarted his escape. If only there were a way out of here and a way to disable the counter measures. Then he'd escape and live as he desired, wherever he chose. Striker knew the chances of him encountering one of his kind again and/or leaving Earth was slim to none. However, at this point, he was willing to accept that harsh reality, but he would rather die than spend another day under the Oomans' control! The only question was…how?_

_What was he going to do? The whole situation was infuriating! And…it was all **his** fault. How could he have been so foolish? His Bearer had been right all along; his eagerness to mature only brought him troubles. Striker closed his eyes, leaning against the trunk of the tree, listening to the beating of his own heart and the blood pounding in his head. He exhaled, as if trying to expel all his frustrations. The pounding lessened considerably as he became in-tuned to his own inner workings. Every beat of his strong heart slowed as he thought. At length he became aware of the biochip implanted beneath his neck skin. The tiny silicon device ticked unnaturally, standing out against his other internal sounds. All his life that little device had told the Oomans everything about his inner workings, day by day, second for second. Part of him had wanted to rip the device out, but without a sharp blade of some kind it would be much too risky to go digging for it with claw or otherwise. Bleeding to death while trying to dig out a stupid Ooman chip didn't rank high on Striker's list of "ways to die". _

_Slower, slower, his heart beat. He shuddered and suddenly out of the blue, he had an idea. _

………

_The next day in the Control Center of the facility just above the training room…_

General Heingrid sighed and glanced at Karin a moment. She stood just a few feet away staring through the impenetrable Plexiglas barrier of the training room. Inside various targets, climbing apparatus, and simple training weapons waited silently for their use. The room had to be the size of a large gymnasium and resembled a high tech military training course in design. On the far side was a reinforced steel door; the door that would allow Striker inside when the passageway from his enclosure would open.

"So what do you think Karin?" the General asked nonchalantly.

"It's impressive. Has he ever done this kind of thing before?"

General Heingrid made a so-so movement with his shoulders, "Similar, but not exactly. This one is more advanced." He gave a quick nod to one of the control operators, "Let's let him in."

After the button sequence and password was inputted the reinforced door unbolted and hissed open. In a moment's time Striker strode out giving the room a once over with his fierce eyes.

The General leaned over to the intercom microphone, "Sleep well Striker?"

Striker snorted, continuing his observation of the room. His mandibles flicked outward in a grin, _"Kinda empty in here Sherman. What? I don't get anyone to play with this time?"_

"You don't play well with others Striker."

The Predator teen growled with an eye roll._ "Alright Sherman, what hoops do I have to jump through this time?"_

"Are you sure you're ready for our human soldier training?" Sherman asked coyly.

"_Anything your pitiful race can do I can do better! Let's just get this over with,"_ the young Predator growled folding his brawny arms.

Sherman grinned at his predictable attitude and changed his tone to a more militaristic bark, "Alright then. Drop down and give me fifty!"

The alien youth pulled back his head, _"Fifty what?"_

"Push ups Striker. Fifty push ups."

"_Push what? I don't understand."_

The General grinned at his unknowing, "Push ups are an exercise move Striker. You get down on the ground, put your hands on the ground on either side of your chest, and put your feet behind you. Then you hold your weight up using only your hands and you bring your nose to the ground and up again."

"_I don't have a nose dumb ass."_ Striker replied tersely.

Sherman tapped his fingers, "Then touch your mandibles to the ground. You do that fifty times."

"_That sounds like a degrading exercise Sherman." _

"That's the whole idea Striker. My soldiers must do it as part of their conditioning."

The Predator teen rattled harshly seeming to grumble something under his breath but eventually he assumed the position and executed a perfect push up. Eventually he picked up the pace, each one perfect in form and performance. General Heingrid nodded approvingly as the control room watched him.

A grin of knowing crossed the face of Dr. Mathis as he watched Striker's vitals read out, "Heart rate steady, practically unchanged. This is nothing for him."

When Striker neared fifty he suddenly kicked his legs into the air, putting himself in a handstand and executed several unbelievable vertical pushups.

Grinning the General spoke, "Always got to show off don't you?"

Striker lifted his left hand from the ground, supporting all his weight on one hand. _"Kinda shows how underdeveloped you Oomans are doesn't it?"_ Gracefully, belying his size, Striker flipped over landing on his feet. _"If this is what you call 'training' Sherman, I'm disappointed. I actually expected something challenging."_

"That was just to get the lead out of your spotted ass. See that big metal log to your right?"

It took Striker a moment but he looked at it. Apparently, his heat vision was confused by the nonliving objects.

"Pick that son of a bitch up." The General commanded.

Striker rolled his eyes growling something else but hefted up the stout metal 'log' by its handle, balancing it on his shoulder as if it weighed nothing.

Karin's eyes went wide. "That's gotta weigh 400 pounds!"

"425 actually. Typically takes two or three young marines to lift that. To him, it might as well be a sack of flour." General Heingrid explained with a grin of admiration for the alien's strength.

Seeming bored, Striker hissed, _"This is useless Sherman!"_

"Now do you see that climbing apparatus over there? I want you go through that and land on the other side, the whole time holding the log. Drop it and you fail."

Striker eyeballed the complicated climbing wall, studded with knobs for gripping as well as ropes. He snorted, _"Your Ooman soldiers do this?"_

Sherman replied back, "A similar exercise."

"_I doubt that. This is the most ridiculous thing I've ever seen!" _the alien teen growled.

"Yeah, I didn't think you could do it either."

Striker's eyes slit and without a word he charged the apparatus. Karin's jaw almost dropped when the Predator youth scaled the thirty foot vertical wall in a few seconds only using his feet and free hand for leverage. The four hundred pound weight didn't seem to slow him in the slightest as he ascended the top. Without pause he leaped for the overhead handles, catching the third one in his hand and hanging. He hung for a second as if pondering how he was going to move to the next handle with only one free hand. With a grunt he lowered his burden near his feet and clenched them around the metal 'log'. Seeming satisfied with his legs' grip he swung over to the next handle, going hand over hand across the expanse between the climbing wall and the next structure of the obstacle course. Striker swung swiftly never breaking focus or pace. Finally he reached the other obstacle structure and landed on it still holding the metal log with his legs. The young alien bent down, snatched up the weight, and rested it comfortably on his shoulder. He paused, assessing very quickly the last part of the course. Several tall posts all progressively getting shorter and spaced at intermitted distances lay before him. Striker bunched his leg muscles and leaped like a nimble cat upon the nearest post and then to another and another, barely pausing to gauge the distance. Then with a roundhouse flip he dismounted the final post, landing perfectly on the target zone.

Karin smiled and clapped her hands for the unbelievable performance. The General nodded approvingly and was about to speak when suddenly Striker doubled over, dropping the metal log and collapsing to his knees. Seizing his chest with his hand the Predator flared his mandibles and seemed to gasp for breath.

"What's happening?" the General demanded to Dr. Mathis.

Shaking his head the scientist almost shouted, "Something's wrong! Blood pressure rising, heart rate erratic."

Striker rasped unnaturally, his mandibles flicking spastically as he held his chest. He growled deep and all at once his spine straightened. Without warning he threw his head forward and spewed a thick stream of glowing green blood from his mouth, gasping horrendously.

"**_WHAT THE HELL?_"** General Sherman shouted in disbelief. "Mathis, talk to me! **WHAT** is wrong with him?"

The scientist kept shaking his head, sweat beginning to form on his brow, "I don't KNOW! His vitals are failing! Heart rate dropping below normal levels, blood pressure declining, synaptic activity off the charts!"

Karin's eyes were wide in horror as Striker suddenly fell on his side, convulsing and rasping. **_"STRIKER!"_**

"DO SOMETHING! NOW!" the General shouted.

Dr. Mathis slammed his view screen with a hand, "I can't DO ANYTHING! He's DYING!"

With urgency Karin grabbed her father's sleeve, "Dad! I HAVE to help him!"

"No! I can't let you in there!" he shouted.

"HE'S dying Dad! If I don't do something…"

Biting his lip hard the General looked at Striker on the screen. He was on his side convulsing and seemed to be slowing down as his life dwindled.

At last he barked, "Mathis! Get your emergency team in there with a compliment of twenty of my soldiers! I don't want to take any chances!"

"Yes sir," the doctor nodded jumping from his chair and picking up the phone to call in the team.

Karin faced her father with determined eyes, "I want to be part of that team."

Though he looked immensely reluctant but finally he conceded, "I can see there's no convincing you otherwise. Don't make me regret this."

…….

_Minutes later in the training room…_

Karin was the first doctor in the room, the others still seemed afraid to enter remembering all too well Striker's ruthless disposition. But it didn't stop the former military doctor. With a quick sprint Karin was next to Striker's side. He was still shaking but not as violently. His breaths were ragged and too shallow. Using her hands and shoulder Karin rolled the heavy alien teen over onto his back. He didn't react to her touch, only flopped as if already dead.

"Striker! Striker can you hear me?" Karin asked in a loud voice.

He didn't respond in any way.

In no time the other physicians were huddled around the massive form with the armed guards covering every possible venue of escape. Working as a unit the team of doctors along with Karin began hooking up the heart monitor and breaking out the specialized oxygen/nitrogen mixed tanks to help Striker breathe. In a few seconds the heart monitor was on but barely registering anything from the young Predator.

"Dear God! His heart rate is only at 25 BPM!" one of the physicians exclaimed.

"He should be well over 120!" the head female physician Dr. Wever stated.

Quickly they placed the breathing cup over the alien's mouth trying to pump more air into him but it didn't seem to have any affect as he continued to rasp shallowly.

Dr. Wever looked him over quickly and shouted at the intercom overhead, "We're going to have to move him to the Medical Wing General! I can't do anything down here."

"Is he dead?" the General asked immediately.

"Just about. I don't know what's wrong with him but he's barely alive," she explained.

There was a pause. "If he's NOT dead he's not getting moved anywhere! I'm not going to take any chances with him."

"But, Sir! If he's not moved then we could lose him." Dr. Wever protested.

"And if he suddenly recovers while he's being moved then it'll be the same result as last time he got out!" the General growled.

Quite abruptly Karin gasped as a glowing mist of Striker's blood covered the inside of the breathing cup. "_Oh Striker_… GENERAL! We can't let him die like this!"

A long pause followed.

"DAD!" Karin shouted urgently.

After a few more moments his gruff voice replied, "Move him."


	17. Vengeance

**Striker 17: Vengeance**

_In the Maximum Security Medical Wing minutes later…_

The move had been a success with no movement out of Striker, who continued to gasp in a horrid fashion. As the General demanded the alien teen was strapped to the medical bed by way of steel cuffs at his wrists, upper arms, thighs, and ankles. Every soldier remained ever vigilant in their guardianship as they encircled the medical room inside and out. The doctors were scrambling around the inert alien form trying to ascertain why his vital signs were suddenly diminishing. Quickly they hooked up the heart monitors which indicated no improvement on his condition. In fact his vitals had dropped a few more points since the move.

"Still no improvement. Heart rate at 21 BPM, blood pressure still falling, breathing very shallow," one physician reported to Dr. Weaver, the head doctor.

"Should we give him any injections to boost his heart rate" another asked.

Dr. Weaver shook her head, adjusting her glasses, "No. Not yet. There's no telling how his body will react to our drugs. They could be fatal to him."

"But we have to do something for him! He's fading each minute." Karin stated with a desperate tone.

At once General Heingrid's voice came over the intercom, "Any improvement?" Clearly he was watching from the security camera monitor in the control center of the facility.

"Nothing. Dammit! I don't know what to give him General. I'm afraid if I give him something it'll have an adverse affect on his condition." Dr. Weaver hissed.

"Is his heart still beating?" he asked tersely.

"Yes, just barely. It's holding steady at 21 BPM."

"Any theories?" Do you know what caused this?" the General inquired.

Dr. Weaver sighed, "I honestly don't know. He was perfectly fine the last time I checked his vitals. No signs of heart weakness or any other defect…at least none that I can tell. He's just too different anatomically in some aspects. If he gets much worse than this I don't know what can be done for him." Touching her glasses Dr. Weaver sighed, "If I were to guess, I'd say he's got some defect we can't detect. If I knew anything about his species I could probably find it but I have no frame of reference. For all we know he could've been born with it and it's only starting to cause him problems now. Sigh That just doesn't make sense though. Why would the defect choose to affect him now?"

"Perhaps you pressed him too hard, physically?" Karin surmised.

"Impossible! He's done way more strenuous activities than this and he's NEVER shown weakness during any of them. Why he's in this catatonic state _now_ I'll never know," the General answered gruffly. "For now I want constant surveillance on his condition with updates every half hour. I also want round the clock guard; no less than 20 soldiers."

"Yes sir."

The General continued in a dead serious voice, "And Dr. Weaver, if he so much as twitches or shows dramatically sudden signs of improvement I want him sedated and put back in the enclosure. There WILL NOT be a repeat of last time! Understood?"

"Clearly," she nodded.

Karin positioned herself closer to Striker's inert form, "I will take first medical watch."

A heavy sigh accompanied the General's voice, "Very well, but only for a couple hours."

"I'll stay as long as it takes, General." Karin argued.

"NO. Two hours. End of discussion." The intercom clicked off.

Clearly peeved at her father's decision Karin continued to watch the heart monitor, earnestly hoping to see improvement. None showed.

'_What has happened to you Striker?'_ Karin thought.

The first hour passed by at a snail's crawl with no visible improvement indicated by the instruments. Karin stood next to Striker's 'bed' while Dr. Weaver and another one of her colleagues kept vigilant watch. The twenty or so soldiers in the room remained at attention, hands gripping their rifles and taser weapons should anything go wrong.

Deep in her heart Karin wanted to speak to Striker. But what could she say? Even if he were awake would it matter? She'd said all that needed to be said to him. She was sorry for leaving him. She was sorry for the situation he'd been put in. What more was there?

"Dr. Weaver we're getting spikes in his synaptic activity!" one of the assistants suddenly blurted out.

All at once Striker's lithe body erupted in violent convulsions.

"Oh NO! He's having a seizure!" Dr. Weaver exclaimed.

"You have to unbind him Doctor!" Karin shouted knowing full well a patient going through a seizure was not to be restrained during the spasm.

The speaker crackled with the General's voice, "NO! Under NO circumstances is Striker to be unbound!"

Karin felt panic clamp at her chest, "DAD! If we don't unbind him he's going to break his own limbs or worse!"

"That's a chance I'm willing to take. DO NOT release any part of him!" he replied stubbornly.

Disbelieving, Karin watched Striker shake violently. He was going to hurt himself if he wasn't released! Her protective doctor instinct seized her rationale and choked it into submission. Without any regard for anyone but Striker's well being, Karin reached over to Dr. Weaver's neck, grabbed her card key, and swiped it though the mechanism that would unlock the steel bonds holding Striker to the table.

"**NO! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING KARIN?"** her father's voice boomed with outrage.

The bonds made a small electrical chirp, unlatched from Striker's wrists, arms, legs, ankles, and neck, folding back like metal flower petals. In the exact second that General Heingrid shouted, every soldier in the room pointed their rifles at Striker's quaking body, filling the room with the harsh sound of bullets being loaded into chambers. However, Striker continued to shake. Quickly Karin snatched a sterile towel from the supply cart, nudged Striker's dreads out of the way and gently placed the cushion under his large head so he wouldn't hurt himself.

"Shh…shh. It's ok Striker. It's ok." Karin whispered, though she knew that during such a convulsive fit he wouldn't be able to register anything she said.

After a few minutes or so the soldiers seemed to relax their intensity just slightly, seeing that the alien teen wasn't attempting anything. But they still kept a wary eye on the Predator.

Soon Striker's shaking stopped and one of the doctors announced, "Synaptic activity going back to normal; heart rate still at 21 bpm."

Dr. Weaver swept a hand through her sweaty brown hair and gave Karin a glare, "What were you **_thinking_**?"

The redhead returned the glare, "Isn't it common medical knowledge that if someone is having a seizure you are NOT to restrain them?"

"Yes, but the General ordered you NOT to!" the doctor replied tersely.

Karin set her jaw and looked away from the head doctor.

"Well he's done now. Reapply the restraints." Dr. Weaver continued.

One of the male doctors near the heart monitor nodded and unchained the security card from his smock. A repetitive beeping sounded, growing faster in tempo. Dr. Weaver's breath stopped in her throat as her eyes connected with the heart monitor screen. Her small mouth began to form a syllable of warning but it was too late by then.

Striker's eyes flashed open, his tiger-like pupils slitting with focus in the harsh light. Quicker than any trigger squeeze, the alien teen clamped a huge hand around the male doctor's arm. Striker jerked the man off his feet so fast he barely had time to scream before the Predator swung him around the room like a living club! Having no control what-so-ever the hapless victim's feet slammed against the surrounding soldier's faces and weapons, throwing them completely off guard. Curses, screams, and shrieks engulfed the room as Striker wielded the doctor's body just like any weapon. Once he'd succeeded in knocking his armed foes off balance he hurled the limp form into the flustered soldiers. In less than a second, the lithe Predator assumed a crouch on the table and sprang upon the soldiers with a terrifying bellow! Karin screamed and ducked next to the steel table with Dr. Weaver as erratic gunfire erupted. Plaster rained down on them as the bullets accidentally took out the ceiling and walls before driving into the steel enforced concrete beneath. Panic seized the women as they huddled together listening to the gruesome battle on the other side of the table.

_Striker's vision was full of heat signatures; Ooman bodies clustered together in a panicked mass of flailing arms, thrashing legs, jostling torsos, and firing weapons. The confusing images mixed with the deafening sound were enough to confuse any hunter. But somehow, the young Predator found focus, utter calm. Though he couldn't comprehend why, he wasn't enraged at all. His actions had plenty of aggression but he wasn't feeling the blinding rage he'd thought he'd feel. Instead his mind and heart sang as one, singing "Combat…combat…kill them…destroy them… honor…take your honor…it is yours" And the young Predator heeded the call with great intensity._

After leaping from the table he'd been laying on Striker seized one of the closest soldier's gun barrels, bent it into uselessness, yanked it out of the man's grasp and then swung it like a mace! Striker effortlessly slew any man unfortunate enough to be in his path. Hot viscous blood sprayed against the walls and on his skin as he ruptured their skulls like ripe melons. Fragments of the gun stock flew everywhere until only the twisted metal innards remained in the Predator's grasp. Striker cast the useless weapon aside just as one soldier toward the back of the cluster raised his M-16 and drilled two lightening quick rounds into Striker's chest. The hot lead bullets stung but didn't stop the rampaging Predator. With a fancy combat dodge, Striker leaped at the man, slamming his elbow into the shooter's face! A horrid cracking announced the breakage most of the victim's facial bones and his death as well. Using only his bare hands, Striker slaughtered the bewildered soldiers who desperately tried everything to stop his berserk attacks. But in such close quarters the men stood no chance. All at once, Striker shrieked in immediate pain when he felt a cold blade stab into his side just above his belt. The alien teen wheeled fast and his eyes focused on the attacker. A soldier wielding a combat knife had successfully stabbed him. Now enraged, Striker seized the soldier up by the face and slammed him against the wall, splattering his cranium. With an irritated snarl of pain Striker slid the blade out of his side and spun it once in his hand to get a feel for it. It didn't hurt him that bad considering the deep plunge of the blade.

The doorway and most of the room was splattered with blood and the guards lay in grisly piles. Striker's heavy excited breathing soon calmed and his eyes averted to the camera mounted near the ceiling. Flipping the knife over, he threw it at the camera shattering the lens and destroying the device.

Karin and Dr. Weaver remained behind the table too stupefied to take a peek at what had happened. But there was little doubt in their minds when the shouts and gunfire ceased and only the young Predator's breathing could be heard.

Striker glanced amongst the pile of bodies for a moment and snorted. Seconds later a klaxon began blaring and the corridor was bathed in flashing red lights. The alarm had been triggered. Snarling, the young Predator gave the open corridor a quick glimpse before racing away.

After a moment the women glanced at each other until Karin took the initiative and stood up to face the grisly reality. She had to hold back a gasp of horror when she viewed the carnage mere feet away. The woman felt the most unmitigated rage building inside her as she stared at the bloody footprints Striker had left behind. He'd fooled them…he'd fooled them all…he'd tricked her. The only question on her mind was HOW.

Barely able to restrain her voice from shouting the medic clenched her teeth and strode toward the doorway filled with bodies, "**Striker**…"

"Where are you going?" Dr. Weaver asked with a fearful tone.

Karin didn't bother to answer; she gingerly stepped around the dead bodies and raced after Striker.

"KARIN! KARIN COME BACK!" Dr. Weaver screamed through the warning siren.

But the redhead ignored her as she ran down the flashing hall, following Striker's bloody footprints and drops of iridescent blood. He was fast she knew, but eventually the trail of green blood came to a room labeled "Medical Supply Room". The room didn't have an air-lock door so Striker had been able to smash it in and gain access. Very cautiously Karin approached smashed doorway noticing the room was dimly lit. If he was in there she had to be very careful. He might just kill her. She took one step inside and instantly she saw Striker's glowing side across the room. He seemed to be dousing the stab wound with some antiseptic. His shadowed head turned in her direction and he flashed his yellow eyes at her.

"_Karin."_

"Striker," she hissed. "How…?"

The alien cocked his head at her, _"Why do you seem so shocked Karin?"_

"HOW?" Karin screamed slamming her hand against a metal table on the verge of tears.

The young Predator flicked some blood from his hand, _"How did I pull this charade off you mean?"_

She seethed through her teeth but didn't answer.

"_It wasn't easy. But even after all these years of studying me, I still have the advantage of knowing you Oomans haven't even begun to scratch the surface of what I'm capable of doing!"_ Striker stated nudging a dead soldier's body with his foot.

Karin shook her head, tears wetting her eyes, "You were playing dead? The heart beat, the blood, the convulsions…all an act? How did you do it?"

A dark smirk came over Striker's face, _"Didn't know I could control my internal workings did you? All I have to do is focus hard enough and my body goes into a state of hibernation; slowed heart, shaking, and shallow breathing. I didn't even know I could do it myself until last night. It's was a very…interesting experience."_

"And the blood?" Karin demanded.

Striker clicked a quick laugh, _"I just raked my inner teeth against my palate. You Oomans are SO gullible and so compassionate. I almost didn't pull it off. That is, until you freed me." _

The medic felt her rage ignite from the betrayal and with a roaring scream she snatched the first thing she could get into her hand; a medicine vial; and threw it full force at Striker! Striker ducked a bit as the vial smashed against the wall, his eyes seemed to convey shock.

Not stopping Karin grabbed whatever she could and threw it at the alien teen screaming, "YOU…you MONSTER! HOW COULD YOU? HOW COULD YOU DO THIS? ALL I WANTED TO DO WAS HELP YOU AND THIS IS THE THANKS I GET!"

Striker snatched a clipboard out of the air that Karin threw at him, _"If you want to help me so badly Karin, then give me that card around your neck."_

The medic stopped throwing objects and stared at the card key, "I…I can't Striker."

Taking a step toward her the Predator hissed, _"I'm giving you a chance to make this right Karin. Either I'm leaving this place without any resistance from you Oomans or I'm going to die here and take as many of you Oomans as I can with me."_

Karin backed up a step, "Even if I give you this card you'll never get out of here alive Striker."

For a moment Striker was silent, as if thinking. _"Then so be it."_ Before Karin could reactthe young Predator leaped forward and seized the card from her neck chain. Then, without a word he shouldered past her through the open door. Karin turned fast and grabbed his wrist to stop him, without thinking. Like a striking snake the alien teen's hand shot around and clamped down on her arm. The pressure was enough to bring Karin to her knees.

Striker stared at her, _"I don't want to hurt you Karin. All I want is to leave this place…But be **WARNED** Karin, I will kill anyone who tries to return me to that accursed cell!"_ He released her and took off down the corridor, leaving the woman alone.


	18. Sadie

**Striker 18: Sadie**

_Only minutes later in the corridor…_

Karin sat dumbstruck on the floor of the hallway. The alien teen's dire warning rang in her mind, "_I will kill anyone who tries to return me to that accursed cell!"_ She knew that her father and the superiors in charge of this entire project would never consent to Striker's demands of freedom, no matter how many humans he killed. There were only two conclusions, either Striker would be recaptured and imprisoned again with much stricter security measures or he would be killed in the very facility he called a prison.

All at once the sound of booted feet down the corridor made her turn. Standing in staggered patterns, another cluster of soldiers rounded the corner and upon seeing Karin they quickly approached her.

The man in the lead lightly touched her shoulder, "Karin! Are you alright? What happened? Where's the alien?"

Karin could only shake her head as she slowly regained her feet. "I…I don't know."

"Ma'am we have explicit orders to get you to safety. Come with us." The leader explained, grabbing her arm and pulling her to the center of the group. Not resisting, Karin ran with the troop down the corridors, stopping only to make sure the way was free of danger- in other words, if Striker was there. Soon they made their way to the main control center where the General and many of the top ranking scientists were frantically trying to locate Striker.

General Heingrid was barking orders harshly, pointing and shouting into microphones. "Find that bastard goddammit! Follow his locator chip frequency! Platoon A, cut him off at Junction 6C. Platoons B and C choke all the stairwells. DON'T let him escape!"

Karin approached her father quickly and asked, "Dad! Where are Mike and Sadie? Are they here?"

Giving her an almost disappointed look the General replied, "No. I contacted Mike as soon as this happened and sent a whole platoon to retrieve them."

"Where are they now?" urgency lacing her voice.

The General pointed to a security screen which showed several soldiers running. "They are almost to Corridor 3B."

"Mike and Sadie are down Corridor 9B." Her eyes flicked over the dozens of security screens, "What about Striker? Where is he?"

"His internal chip indicates he is on Level C. Just one floor below them. He's heading for the South Stairwell," one of the scientists explained, typing commands furiously.

The General leaned over, "Keep him on Level C!"

Suddenly the scientist monitoring Striker's progress typed even more feverishly. His expression betrayed that something was wrong.

Sensing the frantic demeanor the General spoke into his headpiece, "Platoons B and C are you in position?"

"_Platoon C at North Stairwell in position Sir!"_ a woman's strong voice confirmed.

"Platoon B are you in position?" the General demanded loudly.

There was only the briefest pause and a response came through, _"Platoon B **was** in position."_

Sherman's back went rigid at the sound of Striker's deep growling voice. He listened but could hear nothing in the background noise. The Platoon was all dead. "Striker…you have to stop now."

"_No. YOU must stop Sherman. That's ten more dead Oomans…how many more will it take before you let me go?_"

"You know damn well I can't do that," the General replied evenly.

The scientist watching the alien's signature gasped, "He's on level C!"

A harsh Predator hiss crackled in the head-piece "_Let me out of here Sherman. That's all you have to do. You **know** what will happen if you don't."_

Stiff-lipped the General remained silent.

Striker's menacing voice growled, _"Your call."_ Then, the line went silent.

……….

_To be honest Striker wasn't sure where he was going, but his instincts were telling him to go up. He'd easily overtaken and surprised the ten soldiers waiting for him in the stairwell, only receiving four bullet wounds in the entire fray. The concrete stairs and railings had deflected much of the projectiles and his inhuman agility made it all too easy for him to kill the soldiers. Now their twisted, mangled bodies littered the stairs, their thick blood oozing over the steps. Striker liked it. The more he killed the more excited and determined he became. He was earning his honor right this minute; slaying his enemies with bare hands no less! There was an instant when he yearned for a blade, but the sheer raw thrill of tearing his prey to pieces enthralled him._

_The young Predator felt more pride than he did on his first escape! Granted, this time would be much harder to overcome and his chances for survival were slim. But he did not care if he died…just so long as his enemies died screaming in his grasp._

_Nimbly, Striker leaped upward in the stair chamber and caught the railing, not bothering to use the steps. Pulling himself up, he found the next door. He looked upward through the chasm of spiraling concrete stairs. Not much further to the top, he could just keep going. But then, his plan failed. Echoing voices from below and above signaled that soldiers were pouring out onto the stairs. The young alien assessed the situation. He COULD kill most of them…but this time they knew where he was, unlike the first batch of soldiers. For some reason he envisioned himself falling down the stair chasm, shot to pieces. No…he wanted to die standing his ground, knee deep in Ooman bodies, not falling. Without wasting a second the young Predator kicked at the door, denting its steel considerably. Again he kicked and this time the door fell in allowing him access to the next corridor. Maybe there was a way out from here?_

_Carefully he stalked the hall, eyes and ears alert to everything. Then he heard more Oomans straight ahead and in milliseconds bullets were whizzing past him! Striker cursed; there was no way out of the hall! Roaring he seized a door handle next to him and yanked the door open. Using a huge burst of strength, Striker planted his feet and ripped the door straight off its hinges, holding it in front of him like a shield. The steel plated door rattled with each bullet, but the young alien knew it wouldn't help him for long. Those bullets were starting to puncture despite the steel plating._

_In an instant he backed into the room the door belonged to and haphazardly refitted it into the frame. He knew inside this room he was as good as dead…but those soldiers couldn't come in all at once. With any luck he could do the same thing to them he did to the other soldiers; clog their entrance and kill them in close quarter combat. Striker breathed raggedly as he waited, listening to the soldiers outside coming closer. He knew any second they would be blasting the walls in a desperate attempt to kill him. The alien listened carefully to the voices outside the room._

"Yes sir! He's in there!" a male's voice stated, obviously referring to Striker.

Faintly, Striker could hear General Heingrid's voice over the man's head radio, "Dammit! Hold your fire squad! I repeat: hold your fire!"

"Then what are our orders sir?" the man asked.

Again the General's voice over the headpiece came to Striker's attention, "Hold position but do not engage. Await further orders. DO NOT fire!"

_Striker felt slightly confused by that. Why would the General order them to hold fire when they knew where he was? Was it some kind of trick? Or was there something important in this room he'd just entered? There had to be SOME explanation._

_His yellow eyes darted around the room. It wasn't like the other rooms he'd seen. This one was more…cozy. A pair of Ooman beds and other assorted furniture cluttered the floor space. What kind of room was this? Then his eyes focused on the far bed. Was there heat coming from underneath that bed? Hissing menacingly, Striker approached the bed, gripped the side of the frame, and forcefully flipped it over. Upon doing that he was greeted with a hail of bullets! The Predator stepped back a second snarling as several small bullets entered his left shoulder and torso. They hurt, but were not fatal to him. What the HELL? There was an Ooman male underneath that bed and he had a gun! With a roar of rage, Striker pounced on the man, knocking the handgun from his grasp, and hoisting him by the throat into the air._

_Eyes flaming Striker focused on the face. He…he KNEW this Ooman! It was the male leader Karin was with when he was just an infant!_

"_YOU!" _Striker snarled at the man.

Choking, Mike kicked his legs and tried to speak despite the alien's death grip on his throat. Striker hissed slamming Mike's back to the closest wall.

"_What are YOU doing here?"_ he demanded harshly, slackening his grip only minutely.

Mike gasped, "Ka-Karin…"

The alien teen's eyes narrowed, _"You came with Karin?"_ Striker thought a moment and stared hard at the familiar man in his grasp, _"Tell me, how do I get out of this place?"_

Grasping at Striker's forearm Mike rasped, "I…I don't know."

Striker's eyes flashed, _"Don't you DARE lie to me Ooman! You came down here from the outside…you DO know."_

The man thrashed more, "You can't…you can't escape GASP!. They are coming here!"

"_I know…they're outside this room right now. But they won't fire with you in here. Why are YOU so important?"_ Striker hissed.

Mike was about to respond when suddenly a tiny plaintive voice called from behind the farthest door in the room.

"Dada…"

Mike's eyes went wide. Striker tilted his head toward the far door.

The little voice repeated more desperately, "Dada!"

Arching a curious spiked brow Striker stared at the door. As he did he could feel the Ooman's pulse race dramatically under his hand.

He slit his eyes at the man and almost smirked, _"Hiding something?"_

Deftly, Striker tossed Mike to the side and headed straight for the door.

Fear and anger lacing his voice Mike was on his feet in an instant, "**NO!**" Without regard for his own safety the protective father leaped at Striker, wrapping his arms around the alien's torso. Striker whirled around and easily ripped the man from his body, but Mike wasn't done. Fueled with adrenaline and rage the man drove several solid punches and combat kicks into the alien, purposely aiming for his bleeding spots. Striker winced when the blows contacted his already tender bullet wounds. Seeming to have enough, the alien teen slammed a hard open hand into Mike's chest, sending the man flying into the wall again. He gasped hollowly, wind leaving beneath his vibrating ribs.

Striker almost smiled, _"You **must** be hiding something VERY important."_ Turning, he approached the 'secret' door and very slowly opened it. Fraught with anxiety, Mike struggled to regain his breath, limbs thrashing to find purchase.

"S…SSSSSaa…" he croaked. Taking as much air as he could Mike moaned, "Sadie…hide! _Gasp!_… HIDE NOW!"

The Predator paused a moment, recognizing the name. His eyes scanned the interior of the darkened room carefully. Thus far he couldn't see anything.

Tightening his throat slightly the Predator teen called in Mike's voice, _"Sadie, Sadie come here."_

"Dada?" the tiny voice called back from the right corner.

Striker grinned at his flawless mimicry directing his eyes toward the corner. A very small heat signature was blazing like a flame, _"Come here Sadie."_

Slowly, the little girl toddled closer to the door where Striker's shadow stood.

Struggling to breathe still, Mike tried to shout, "NO! NO SADIE… _Gasp!_"

Sadie paused; seeming confused she was hearing her father's voice in two different tones. "Dada?"

"_Come here Sadie. Dada wants you."_ Striker mimicked, kneeling down in the doorway.

With that the toddler rushed up to Striker's dark form. The Predator didn't make a move until she was within reach. Quickly, but gently, Striker's hand swerved around to Sadie's back and seized the back straps of her lavender overalls, lifting her nearly weightless form off the floor. In that instant Sadie realized it wasn't her father and let loose a blood curdling shriek!

_Striker winced at the shrill cry; not believing something so small could have such powerful lungs. The little Ooman female's stubby legs kicked frantically as he held her at arm's length to examine his catch. So THIS was an Ooman offspring. Striker had honestly never seen one so young or so small. She looked just like the adult Oomans, just in a tiny package. Much like his species, he had to admit. Now he understood why the male Ooman had fought so hard. This was his daughter. But that meant…Striker's eyes lit up in realization. If this was Sadie, then this was Karin's daughter as well! So…Karin mated the leader of the platoon and this was their offspring, Sadie. Why, Striker couldn't figure out, did Karin bring them? Oh well. It didn't matter. A cunning smirk crossed Striker's face. This certainly would tip the scales to his favor._

Striker turned just in time to see Mike struggle to his feet. Upon seeing his daughter in the clutches of the Predator teen, Mike froze, frame quaking with terror and rage. Sadie had stopped screaming and was simply whimpering, tears filling her blue eyes.

"Put…her…down." He warned as menacingly as possible.

The alien wasn't impressed, _"If I were you, I'd seriously be considering the safety of my offspring."_

Mike leaned forward as if to attack but seemed to think better of it, "Don't you hurt her you son of a bitch! Just put her down! You can take ME instead."

Gently, Striker pulled Sadie close to his chest, cradling her tense little body in the crook of his arm. She whimpered again. _"I understand. You want your daughter to be safe. That's what I'm counting on."_

All color seemed to leave Mike's face. "Please…don't hurt her."

The alien teen rattled softly. He was silent for a moment, just holding Sadie until finally he said, _"Contact General Sherman. Now."_

Mike saw no other choice, cautiously reached for the phone, and pushed the button to contact the main office.

"_Put it on speaker mode, two-way."_ Striker commanded.

The nervous father complied, hanging up the receiver to let the speaker work. General Sherman's voice immediately answered, "Mike? Mike? Is that you? Are you both alright?"

Striker gave Mike a stern glance, immediately letting him know he wasn't allowed to answer. Then he answered, _"Sherman."_

A heavy tense sigh could be heard from the General, "Damn you Striker!"

"_I did not kill…Mike, Sherman. He's very much alive." _He paused a moment, listening to the background noise over the intercom, _"Karin…you never told me you have a daughter."_ Striker stated, seeming to know the woman was there.

"You have Sadie?" Karin asked, motherly concern oozing from her voice.

Brushing a stray lock of hair across Sadie's forehead, Striker replied calmly, _"A very healthy female offspring, yet so fragile. She should live a long life don't you think?"_

"Striker! Please don't do this!" Karin blurted out.

Striker rattled, _"You know precisely what I want. All I ask is that you allow me to leave with no resistance and no surveillance on my person. If I can do that then this will all stop. None of you will ever see me again. And if you tell me you can't do that then I will get very…irritated."_

There was a long pause until Striker continued, _"Withdraw any resistance you have waiting for me Sherman. Tell me where the exit is and I will meet only you and Karin there. If you deceive me or I see any other Oomans **you **will pay dearly for it." _

The pause continued until at last Sherman replied, "Alright. The nearest exit for you would be two floors up from your position. Go down the corridor until you find the first right turn. Walk down all the way and you'll come to a maximum security door. Only my code can open it. Karin and I will meet you there. You give us Sadie and I will let you go."

Striker's chest vibrated with laughter, _"What makes you think I'd be stupid enough to go through an unopened door, just HOPING it's the one I want? Oh no Sherman. You do not get Sadie until I am standing outside with the Earth beyond greeting me. Do you want to change your answer?"_

"No…that _is _the exit. We will meet you there in one hour."

"NO Sherman. YOU are not in control now. I AM. You will meet me there in no less than fifteen minutes." With that the phone went dead.


	19. A Choice of Honor

**Striker 19: The Choice of Honor**

_In the control center…_

The moment the line went silent General Sherman slammed his fist into the table, shaking with rage.

"Damn him! Damn him straight to Hell!"

Karin's heart was beating faster at the thought of her daughter's safety being in jeopardy. It almost made her sick to even think about.

"Dad! We've got to go down there," Karin urged.

"He's got us cornered. There's no way around this," the General fumed, "If I send soldiers he'll know. If I wait he'll…I just CAN'T release him!"

Karin grabbed her father's arm, spinning him to face her, "THAT is _my_ daughter he's got and YOUR granddaughter! JUST let him go!"

"It's just…" he began but stopped, "Let's get down there." He directed his authority toward all the men in the room and over the intercom, "This is General Heingrid. I want all personnel to stay exactly where they are unless you are in the vicinity of the primary exit. If you are anywhere near the exit, get as far away as you possibly can. Do not wait!"

_At the exit door…_

Karin and her father stood beside the exit door. Made entirely of metal and advanced technological parts it looked nearly impenetrable. The woman wrung her hands with worry since she didn't know where he daughter was and what was going to happen. Karin couldn't believe Striker was resorting to putting her daughter's life in danger! Was he truly that ruthless? Would he kill Sadie if something went wrong? The worried mother just couldn't believe it.

The General checked his watch. "He should be here by now."

Karin just sighed, continuing to pace.

"Karin—I'm sorry I got you into this mess. I never thought it would come to this." The General apologized.

She opened her mouth to respond when a very familiar silhouette appeared at the end of the corridor. A loud rattle echoed down the hall followed by the quiet whimper of a little girl.

"Sadie!" Karin called out, taking a few steps closer.

"Mama?" the little girl responded.

A somewhat relieved smile washed over the mother's face, "Yes Sadie. Mama's here! Everything's going to be ok."

"Mama!" Sadie called louder.

Striker's looming form was silent at the exchange between mother and offspring but he slowly came closer.

"Striker! Let Sadie go! Please." Karin began pleading.

A soft rattle was his only answer as he came closer still. Karin could see her little daughter nestled in the crook of his brawny arm in a proper "child holding" position. That seemed slightly odd to her. If he was intent on harming Sadie then why was he holding her so gently?

General Heingrid stepped up next to Karin, "Let her go Striker. We can end this without further violence."

The big alien stopped a moment flexing the fingers of his free hand, _"Open the door Sherman."_

"We want Sadie on the ground in front of you first. I swear I will open the door if you do that," the man promised.

Striker narrowed his eyes, _"Door, now."_

"You would hurt a helpless child just to get out?" Karin stated with all seriousness.

It was then the woman noticed a change in Striker's gaze. The hard, predatory eyes flicked ever so slightly, displaying a brief uncertainty. She took several large steps toward the alien teen, closing the gap.

Sadie held a hand out to her, "Mama!"

Karin's blue eyes met Striker's amber ones. "You won't—will you."

The alien's eyes hardened again but he didn't respond.

Vaguely Karin recalled his violent reaction the other day when her father accused him of killing _all_ humans if he was released… _"How dare you insult my honor!"…_His honor? Striker had become viciously offended at the insinuation that he would aimlessly kill any human no matter their gender or age. So this…this whole thing was a bluff? He'd fooled them so many times before it wasn't inconceivable.

"You _won't_ kill a child _will_ you?" Karin's gaze pierced the alien.

He stared at her, _"What makes you say that Karin?"_

"You won't kill something that is helpless and can't fight back." her voice hardened. "It would be an insult to your honor."

Striker's mandibles tapped independently for a second. Then, he grabbed the back of Sadie's overalls and held her out to the side. _"You don't think I will?"_

Karin went stiff but shook her head, "No. I don't."

His grip tightened on the back straps of the little girl's overalls as he held her out. Sadie whimpered again. All at once, Striker knelt down and gently placed the child on the ground. Once he released her overall straps he nudged her toward Karin with a heavy sigh. The toddler eagerly rushed over to her awaiting mother. Equally eager, Karin scooped up her daughter and held her close, almost brought to tears from the emotional relief.

Striker rose to his feet hissing, _"You have good instincts Karin."_

The General seemed befuddled by the sudden show of mercy, "But…it…it was all a _bluff_?"

Slitting his eyes the Predator teen growled, _"You Oomans are so predictable in so many ways Sherman. You just __**assumed**__ I would stoop so low as to harm a helpless child. I never intended to hurt her, but I knew you __**thought**__ I would."_

He stalked closer, _"But I won't bluff with __**you**__ Sherman. I let her go so __**open**__ the door."_

The General hesitated for a moment but eventually withdrew the card key from his vest. He swiped it and a mechanical female voice requested, **"Fingerprint identification please."**

Compliantly he held his thumb to the black pad, producing a high pitched beeping as it scanned the unique groves and arches of his flesh.

"**Print recognized. General Sherman Heingrid. Please enter security code,"** the computer emotionlessly requested.

Quickly he punched in the numbers and letters that comprised the code and pressed Enter. Beeping obediently the high tech door hissed, releasing the air locks and opening. A gust of cold outside air swept in and Striker stepped forward, his eyes wide.

Beyond the door lay a bare patch of concrete, high security fences, and bright lights. But past the man-made construction was barren, rocky terrain bordered by choppy roaring, ocean. The sky was dark, indicating night but was also blanketed with thick cloud cover. A hideously bleak sight.

Striker stared at what lay before him, his fists tightly clenching with each passing second. He lowered his head menacingly with a snarl, _"WHAT is this?"_

"It's the way out Striker. The _only_ way out."

Turning like a whirlwind, Striker lashed out at the General, slamming him against the wall with a deep bellow.

Karin gasped, "Striker! DON'T!"

His hissing growl was low a menacing but he ignored her protest.

Gasping from the blow the General held up a hand to hold her back, "Karin, take Sadie away from here!"

"I—I can't. Striker! Please don't kill him!" she pleaded.

Striker flashed his eyes and smacked the General across the face with the back of his hand. The blow was not life threatening, as the alien teen was capable of delivering, but it sent the smaller man to the floor.

"NO! STOP!" Karin screamed, clutching her daughter. Sadie began to cry from the high level of tension and noise.

The alien teen hissed, _"Luckily for Sherman he's not armed—and he's too old for me to kill honorably."_ Abruptly he reached down and grasped the man's neck, lifted him off the floor, and drove his back to the wall.

Karin bit her lip, "Then let him GO! PLEASE!"

Striker almost smirked, _"I said I wouldn't KILL him—I never said I wouldn't HURT him." _His scaled hand tightened around the General's neck, _"Now Sherman— you ARE going to tell me WHAT is that? If this is a trick I'm going to rip your arms out of your body."_

Through the pain and choke hold the General rasped, "It's no trick Striker. This facility was built on an island. We're hundreds of miles from any land and the water is so cold and rough no one could survive it if they tried to swim. Not even you."

Striker slowly grasped Sherman's uniform until his claws tore through the thick fabric. Harshly, he smacked the man across the jaw again with his free hand. _"Your design?"_

The General winced from the harsh blow, blood dripping from his split lip, "No. This facility was built years before you ever came to Earth Striker. It was built in the hope that one day we would be able to catch one of your kind and be able to hold it here for study."

Eyes beginning to glow like flames, the Predator teen clenched his fist and reared it back, _"STUDY…"_

General Heingrid closed his eyes a moment, "Yes." Then his steely eyes focused on Striker, "You wanted a way out Striker. I provided it. I didn't trick you, I'm not stopping you—so what are you waiting for?"

…

_Striker's poised fist shook with barely contained rage. A grisly image of his fist smashing through Sherman's forehead flashed over his brain. He could do it—he WANTED to do it—but where would such an act get him. The man was right. He could just walk out. As horrible the reality was, Sherman had provided what he'd asked for. He just didn't like the answer. Besides—killing a weak old Ooman was just not an option._

_Then what was he going to do? Try to swim in a freezing ocean and probably die flailing until exhaustion struck him down? Like Hell he was! That was not a death befitting a Predator warrior. If death was his only choice then he would die drenched in the blood of his enemies!_

…

Striker suddenly slammed his fist into the wall next to Sherman's head, cratering it. He growled deeply and tightened his grasp, _"Alright Sherman—it seems you have me cornered. Does your research tell you what happens when a warrior of my species is cornered?"_

The man didn't answer at first until Striker slammed his whole body against the wall again. _"WHAT does it TELL you?"_

The man gripped the Predator's wrist, a mist of blood from his mouth spraying through his teeth, "The ones before you—gasp—blew themselves up—gasp"

Striker's tone lowered, _"Do you know WHY?"_

General Heingrid didn't answer, but he didn't have to.

"_A warrior would rather die than admit defeat at the hands of his prey. So the only honorable choice is to die and take your prey with you."_ All at once Striker pulled Sherman away from the wall and slammed him back first onto the floor. _"And I'm going to take as many of you little Ooman bastards as I can!"_

Then he released the General standing up with a look of disdain for the man, _"Consider yourself lucky you're __**too**__ old Sherman."_

Striker then fixed his gaze on Karin and Sadie. The woman actually drew back. He approached her slowly until he said in a low tone, _"I will allow you and your young one to leave Karin. Leave this place and live_."

Karin hardened her eyes at him, "And what of my husband, Mike?"

The Predator rattled and walked past her back down the corridor, _"I won't make promises Karin—just hope he can get out before I see him again."_

Before he disappeared around the corner he looked back at Karin and for a brief instant his eyes softened—the way his eyes used to look all those years ago.


End file.
